Just call me Mephistopheles
by SkyeMoor
Summary: Despite the name, this is actually a Romantic comedy. I guarantee that by the end of the story, you will want to punch someone. Possibly the author. Blaise already knows exactly who he wants to punch.
1. Chapter 1

It had been a lovely wedding, Hermione Granger thought. Oh, sure, Molly Weasley had been crying - but a sliver of onion could reduce that woman to tears and her last son getting married was clearly more important than an onion. Here she was, sitting with Harry and Ginny - _ever_ so glad she wasn't up in front with Ron and Parvati. She really had thought Ron would know better - but then again, it wasn't 'good ol' Hermione' pitching that particular fit. That was Harry Potter, who truth be told hated crowds, and especially hated staring. So they were quite glad to be sitting near the edge of the reception, as Ginny tossed off carelessly cruel comments about Ron and his new wife. They weren't ill-meant, of course - just the usual catty gossip. Ginny would figure out - sooner or later - that no one was really laughing along with her... Looking at the red-headed terror (meant kindly of course), her arm draped casually across Harry's shoulders, Hermione couldn't help but think she was a bit of a third wheel... It had been different when Ron was there - then it had been a proper foursome, and nothing got awkward... well, except for the fights. Gryffindors could fight like wolves - teeth meeting teeth and claw striking claw. And neither Ginny nor Hermione was the type to keep quiet if there was a problem. Hermione made as if to get up, before she caught Harry's eye - the slight widening of it, the artfully hidden plea to 'stay for the love of G-d'... And then Hermione Granger turned brightly to Ginny and asked if she would care for another drink? Maybe if I get her drunk enough, she'll stop talking before Ron hears her... or worse, Padma. Harry'd see Parvati coming in time to shut Ginny up - even if the only way to buy her silence was a deep French kiss. Ginny said, "Sure, why wouldn't I? Ron's paying, for once, the cheap bastard!" What a thing to say at a wedding, Hermione thought - and could _almost_ see the thought echoed in Harry's eyes.

Harry Potter turned away suddenly - and froze, just for an eyeblink. "That's Draco Malfoy... what in G-d's green earth is he doing here?"

Hermione giggled, and said, "Apparently even he's not immune to the rigors of Parvati's seating charts."

Harry looked at her, wide-eyed - and in a perfect rendition of Pansy Parkinson, said, "Can you IMAGINE what she'd have done to him if he didn't show Up?"

Hermione belted out a laugh from her belly, "He's probably just bored, in that Manor of his. Nothing to do, nobody who likes him. Why not show up and see the Gryffindors do something-" Here Hermione paused, and then in a flawless Snape voice, "completely and ineffably foolish."

* * *

Draco had been talking with Blaise - though they hadn't shown for the wedding itself, they were bound to make the reception. Not that they needed the free liquor, but laughing at clueless Gryffindors was too good a chance to pass up. Besides, the wedding gift he had gotten for the couple was delightfully ironic. With luck, they wouldn't even realize they'd been insulted. Such were the subtle ways of Slytherin humor.

A scrap of breeze carried Draco's name to his keen ears... He froze momentarily - listening to catch the intonation. Blaise spoke up instead, "Ahh, it seems the Boy who Caught the Snitch has finally noticed you. Apparently you're less distinctive than a golden ball that hums and flies around."

Draco's silver-gray eyes moodily scanned the crowd, finding at last the right raven-haired boy. _He still looks hapless and out of place in a suit_ , Draco thought with more than a hint of amusement.

"Strange, isn't it, that they aren't up with the groom and bride?" Blaise drawled, swirling his glass of wine as he inhaled slowly. _Such a sophisticate, and such a hedonist_ , Draco smiled inwardly to himself.

"Ten'll get you one that Potter pitched a fit, and got his way. _Again_." Malfoy smirked. Long experience with counting the manchild as a foe had given him unwonted insight into his character. Not that he was _ever_ likely to admit that to Potter, of all people.

"You're usually right, Draco..." Blaise said, his voice trailing off as he realized that Malfoy was rather busy eyeing the other table.

"You see it, don't you?" Draco asked, shooting a quick, mischevious look in Blaise's direction. Blaise's heart sunk at the look - it was never a good sign.

"See what?" Blaise said, opting for looking dumb to lure Draco's devious mind into explaining something for once.

"The lovebirds over there... how they yearn for each other, staring into each other's eyes..." Draco's voice had deepened into a purr that rather reminded Blaise of Snape - this was _really_ not a good sign. And then Blaise actually bothered to look over there - and he noticed that Draco had been referring to - not the Weaselette and Potter - but _Granger_ and Potter. And, worse yet, he actually had a point. They looked like two people busy trying to drown themselves in each other's gaze.

"Makes you wish you were back in school, does it? Something else to throw into your schemes..." Blaise said shrewdly. "Pity the war's over, is it?" his voice had taken on something of a chill.

"Oh, but I've had the most marvelous, tricksy idea!" Draco Malfoy said lightly - his silver eyes flashing like a fish sprung from the sea.

"Draco..." Blaise said warningly.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Draco Malfoy asked, smiling like he was an eleven year old again. On nearly anyone else, this would have looked childlike - that careless freedom of the young. On Draco Malfoy, it merely looked childish - his eleven year old visage had too much arrogance and casual cruelty to treat even his amusement as harmless.

"No, Draco, you are not - He got you freed from Azkaban! Are you out of your bleedin' mind?! What if he sends you back?"

And Draco Malfoy, I swear to G-d, leaned back on his chair, lacing his hands behind his head, and said with a cunning smile, "That would mean admitting that I've won."

"Don't be an idiot...!" Blaise hisses - knowing, suddenly, that he wasn't going to stop his best friend from doing something completely foolish.

And Draco Malfoy stood up, and with all his old, accustomed arrogance, strode off towards Potter and Granger and the other Weasley. _He's mad, I tell you, off his bloody rocker._

Harry Potter noticed Malfoy before Granger did, his eyes alighting with suspicion. Draco Malfoy merely smirked slightly, before smoothing his face down to that arrogant mask he favored.

"Why if it isn't Miss Granger..." Draco Malfoy drawled out, enjoying the looks on the entire table's faces. _Didn't they realize the war's over? Maybe not, old prejudices do die hard._ Draco Malfoy executed a perfect bow towards her - spoiled only slightly by the fact that she was facing Potter and not Draco. "I wonder if I might request the pleasure of a dance?" His hand was held out in just the perfect position for guiding her into a waltz - _though of course it was a polka playing. Barbaric music, the Polka - why it even showed your legs!_

"Oh, I'm afraid I am too embroiled in my current conversation, and I'd hate to deprive Harry and Ginny of my good company."

"Are you so certain of that, my dear? I venture to say that the two lovebirds would welcome some time to themselves..."

Granger's voice grew a bit more brittle, as she said, "Still, I must say that I am surprised at you - I'd have thought I'd be the last person you'd ask for a dance." _The Shadows of War still cling to us all,_ Draco Malfoy thought morosely.

"You know what they say about Slytherins - appearances can be quite deceiving." Draco Malfoy let his eyes run up and down Granger's figure, before saying, "You'd know something about that yourself, I suspect." Draco positively delighted in the warmth of Potter's gaze on him - it was as if he was willing Draco to burn to a crisp in front of his eyes.

Granger opened her mouth to say a word, when suddenly Draco Malfoy bent down, and whispered in her ear, "Just play along, you'll figure it out later." Granger blinked, once, at the peculiar phrasing, and then stood, slowly. "Perhaps I do indeed..." she said with a smile that was colder than ice. Later, Hermione would review the scene, and come to understand that it had been Malfoy's backhanded respect for her intelligence that had made her accept.

The dance itself was like dancing with a cloud - Malfoy was grace incarnate, and all the regal authority of a proper young lordling. They stayed regulation distance apart, and Hermione scanned the crowd - wondering if some jealous lover was going to appear. Malfoy, on the other hand, had eyes only for a truly jealous, green-eyed man.

As Hermione walked back to the table, Harry Potter muttered into his wine glass, "I don't trust him. Not one bit."

[a/n: Well, are you interested? If so, write me a review. Blaise is such a fun perspective to write.]


	2. Go Out With Me

Hermione Granger really knew she should have suspected it wasn't just some simple "Let's Dance." But Harry had been there, and Ginny, and Malfoy had been whispering in her ear, his hot breath lingering on her neck.

It wasn't until she got to the Ministry on Monday that she realized there might be a teensy little issue. It started with Vicki running up to her... "Hermione! You won't guess!" Hermione found herself blinking at the excitable brunette. If Vicki wasn't taller than she was, Hermione reflected, she would have resembled an overeager puppy. Vicki grabbed Hermione by the wrist, and said, "Come see!" As Hermione rushed by, she realized - with rather a little bit of confusion - that everyone was looking at her, most looking amused, a few looking a bit cross. Why had people decided she was at all interesting this morning? Hermione Granger was _done_ with her brush with fame, and rather _liked_ being Miss Boring War Hero.

Stepping into her office, she found the hawthorn flowers on her desk, woven carefully into an lemniscate. Odd, that, Hermione thought with a measure of shocked detachment - after all, it wasn't her birthday, and she wasn't upset, so who would be sending her flowers? And such an odd choice... If it were Ron or Harry, it would have been red roses. If Neville had thought of her, it would have been something far more exotic. Vicki frowned at the frown on Hermione's face, "Hermione, what's wrong?"

"Who on earth could possibly have decided to send me flowers?" Hermione asked, looking down at them.

Vicki managed to conceal a smile from Hermione, as she said, "There _is_ a note..." Vicki was not about to admit to peeking - or that she had told Becky, and Paula had overheard and told the rest of the office.

" _I humbly request the pleasure of your good company, at Cornucopia in Diagon Alley at 7pm this Friday. ~Draco Malfoy_ " Hermione's eyes widened, until she was sure she looked like a bug. Draco Malfoy was asking her to dinner. She wanted to tear up the letter - and the flower arrangement, no matter that it had thorns.

"Oh, Merlin! Hermione, you've _got_ to go! Tell me you're not going to say no...!" Vicki squealed from behind Hermione's shoulder - reading over it, as usual.

"I don't see why I should give Draco Malfoy the time of day, quite frankly. He's always been a foul git..." Hermione's conscience twinged, as he hadn't been this weekend. Wait... was this part of what he had said this weekend? _You'll figure it out soon enough_. Was he still expecting her to _play along_?

"Oh, Hermione! It's just one date - and it's Draco Malfoy, so you _don't_ need to worry about another!"

"What do you mean, I don't need to worry about another?" Hermione said darkly, evenly, looking at her friend. She was not about to listen to another person making fun of her appearance.

"Draco Malfoy never takes a girl out twice. He's been seen with nearly everyone-" Vicki lowered her voice, "even Luna Lovegood..."

"And does Mr. Malfoy generally send flower arrangements to ask someone out on a date?"

"If you were that rich, wouldn't you?" Vicki responded.

Paula looked in, and whistled, "Draco Malfoy? I wouldn't waste the opportunity to go out on his dime. Besides, you probably could use some haircare tips from him." Paula walked off cackling.

"You've got it girl, why not flaunt it?" Brett said, walking by with an admiring glance. Not that he figured he'd ever stand a chance with Granger - she was a maneater if ever he saw one. But, Draco Malfoy? Who could miss him?

Hermione Granger's head was whirling, and she wasn't liking the idea she was spinning. She _would_ go out with Draco Malfoy, she supposed. If only to give him a piece of her mind for being so shiftless and indecisive. But, she didn't need to like it!

[a/n: Hermione got talked into it (this was originally going to be with fairly stupid arguments, but suddenly her coworkers started making sense). Her workplace knows her well.

Draco Malfoy is going to be extremely nonplussed

If you like this story, write a review.]


	3. Dance Macabre

Hermione hadn't spent more than ten minutes thinking of what to wear for her "date" with Draco Malfoy. He wasn't worth it. Still, it never did to look completely unpresentable. She had on a crisp pantsuit, her hair tied back in a tidy bun - and a devious smirk on her face. Judging from the location of the restaurant he had invited her to, it was a proper Wizarding Restaurant - and that meant that she'd be completely underdressed (she thought, idly, that it was odd that the Wizarding world still used the word undressed for such attire - as if she was in a simple shift instead of a decently sculpted set of clothing!). Well, if there was one thing the young Malfoy would be good for, it would be smoothing over such deliberate faux pas. With a dash of a grin, she thought, _I wonder if he'll realize this is deliberate?_

Draco Malfoy, meanwhile, was waiting idly outside the restaurant, where he had a reservation in ten minutes. He had already scoped out the place, and was relieved to see no one he knew. Not that that would stop the photographer he had stationed outside the building - nothing stopped photographers, in Draco's experience. They tended to be more reasonable if you gave them scoops, however, so he intended to do just that. Although it was rather dubious whether even Witch Weekly would want to run a story about Draco Malfoy being stood up on a date... Draco's thoughts ran ahead to the next three plans he had to coerce, bribe or otherwise entice Granger into actually accepting a date. Bloody Gryffindors and their bloody pride! Still, showing up looking woebegone at her work on Monday Morning, explaining to all and sundry how heart-broken he was (as if!) - mind laying on the guilt too thick there boy - make that showing up looking woebegone, and asking what horrid, unpreventable catastrophe had occurred that she hadn't even bothered to cancel - or decline the offer! Put a Gryffindor on the backfoot by painting her in the wrong. Bonus points if half the office tried to ask him out. Not that he'd accept, of course - Draco Malfoy was _busy_.

Granger strode in from a side-alley, looking every bit the Gryffindor queen, calm and collected - and ready for anything Draco Malfoy might have in store. She was just about to look at the restaurant - old habits die hard, and assessing a place before entering was firmly implanted in her skull - when she noticed Draco Malfoy, standing there with eyes popping out and his mouth literally hanging open. Staring at her. Wearing a cool smile, Hermione Granger firmly set the memory in her mind - she'd treasure it later. Imagine - getting the jump on the snooty Slytherin! Leaving him so baffled he forgot he was supposed to be looking as arrogant as his father. She strode up to him, turning sideways at the last - getting a clear view of the restaurant (surprisingly small and intimate for Malfoy - she suspected it was chosen to appeal to her own taste), as she offered him her arm. "Shall we?"

Draco Malfoy stared at Hermione Granger as she strode in - clad in figure-revealing _pants_ of all things! Having given no warning, no letter of acceptance, she was actually keeping the date. A part of him was mildly horrified at the indiscretion - and another part was admiringly enjoying the sight of a Gryffindor's ... elegance? no, that wasn't the word at all. Perhaps, grace? Daring and grace. Draco was tugged out of his thoughts by Hermione's words, _Shall we_ his trained ears recounted - he had been far too preoccupied to actually listen as she spoke. To his dawning horror, he saw that Granger was offering him _her_ arm. _Did she even know that was a faux pas?_ Gracefully, he took the proffered arm and strode into the restaurant, nodding to the hostess as she smiled up at him - her eyes completely ignoring Granger. Draco Malfoy was infinitely glad that Granger didn't stiffen at the implied sight.

As they were seated, and passed menus, a dark-haired wall of a photographer darkened their table. "Smile for the camera!" He said with a wide grin. Granger, never one to follow unexpected, unsolicited orders, simply looked surprised. Draco Malfoy, on the other hand, looked insouciant. The photographer shook his head and said, "Now, love, try that one again. Smile, don't look like a deer in the headlights. Merlin knows what'll happen if I print a photograph like that!" Draco stuck his toe against Granger's sensible flats, and when she looked over at him questioningly, he said simply, "Do as he asks, it'll save fuss later. They don't stop until they're done, you know." Draco Malfoy exerted significant influence to keep it down to one photographer at his first dates (he had used persuasion to convince the photographers that it was hardly newsworthy that Draco Malfoy was out on a second date. Or a third).

[a/n: Slytherins and their plans! Write me a review if you love me!]


	4. Supper and Swords, Duels before Midnight

Hermione Granger was glaring at the photographer. No, no that wouldn't do at all, Draco Malfoy thought crossly. With three seconds quick thinking, Draco stuck his hand out, and grabbed her nose. Hermione turned that fiery glare on Draco, of course, and he grinned like a child, squealing, "Got your nose!" Hermione Granger of course giggled, her smile the perfect thing for the cameraman. Draco Malfoy, of course, had his trademark smirk. Inwardly, though, he was cursing. He had said that a little too loud, and people were looking over at them. Soon, there would be a crowd. _So much for an intimate experience._ Draco thought, surging to his feet. From across the table, Hermione Granger looked over at him, and asked - _was that worry in her eyes?_ \- "What's wrong, Malfoy?"

"I'm afraid that we may have overstayed our welcome, though I do think that our next dinner here is likely to be free." Draco said, as he eyed the converging crowd. "Stand up, and head towards the kitchens. Don't stop."

Hermione, still somewhat baffled, stands up, and turns like an automaton towards the kitchens. Blast, I'd better cover her! Draco thinks, saying loudly, "Where in the world is the waiter?" Nevermind that the waiter was behind them, taking someone else's orders - Draco Malfoy can do snooty like no one does snooty. It was rather a point of pride. "The nerve of some people!"

Hermione strode into the kitchens, and the Sous Chef looked up, pursed his lips, and said, "Stay behind me, and head towards the door past the freezer. Expect witnesses."

Draco Malfoy was nearly mortified to see that he was right, as he stepped out the back door of the restaurant. Those witnesses looked like _reporters_ , too. Double bloody damn. Thinking quickly, he pulled her towards him, kissing her as he quickly cast a gentle glamour. As he pulled back from her, her eyes widened, and her mouth opened to say something. "Like the new do?" Draco Malfoy said, tossing his fluffy, curly brown hair that was now brushing his back. "Thanks, I'll take a second." He said, gathering her into his arms again. With another wordless spell (his lips were otherwise occupied - praying like pilgrims, you might say...), Draco stepped back, admiring his handiwork. Granger looked nearly unrecognizable - her normally prudish looks transformed with the silver-blonde of Malfoy's hair... plus the illusion of a steampunk outfit, leather and black la ce. Draco was dressed in nearly anything other than his normal trademark grayscales. "Let's go." Draco said softly, in his smooth drawl.

"Hello, ladies! Were you looking for someone?" Draco Malfoy said, as he strutted over to the reporters. "Are you scouting for a new model? My boyfriend says that I have talent!" And Draco Malfoy let out a girlish giggle. "Honey, come look! It's the press!" He said, pulling Granger towards the reporters. "I told you they'd find me!"

"In a back alley, behind a restaurant you can't afford?" _Hmm... looks like Granger can at least do ice, if not acid._ "How... lucky for them!"

The reporters were already starting to back away - or circle around them. None of the nosy reporters had noticed them exiting from the restaurant, luckily, although there was always a cure for that. _Other than memory charms!_

"Oh, no you don't! Form up now, make a line. You guys can form the runway!" _Granger's forgetting herself a bit, or else she's just too bossy for her own good - they're actually doing it. She might make a good press secretary, come to think of it..._

"Love, I've changed my mind. I need to get my hair and nails done, before I can even _think_ to strut my stuff! Ladies, you're just going to have to wait here until I get back!"

Draco Malfoy sashayed out into Diagon Alley, followed by a scowling Granger. They were getting even better stares, now that they were more in public. They crossed the street, and then ducked into an alley - Granger tugging Draco towards her suddenly, before apparating.

Draco Malfoy cursed as he stumbled, _Sidealong without warning? How rude_. Draco never stumbled while apparating, it was a matter of pride. Hermione giggled a bit at his stiffness, "Decided to take me out as someone else, did we?"

Draco Malfoy smirked, and then arrogantly said, "I thought it might help if we shed our skins. We do have some history together."

[a/n: This totally wasn't supposed to happen. But Hermione wouldn't smile for the camera. Blame her and write me a review.]


	5. Dashed Plans

Draco looked at Hermione Granger brusquely, asking, "Darling, are you terribly starved?" He touched her arm to heighten the effect.

"No, not even a little famished." Granger said gamely, playing along into the role of "straight man."

"Then dash the plans, we'll just make new ones!" Draco said with a throaty chuckle. He gathered Granger into his arms with a smile, and said, "Hold on tight!"

Granger and Malfoy blinked into existence in a dark room. Malfoy waved his wand, lighting a gentle glow. In two strides, he was at the light switch, turning it on. Dazed, Granger was blinking at the sudden change. By the time her vision had returned, Draco Malfoy was saying gallantly, "Welcome to the Demi-monde, where mysteries abound - and there's a whore around every corner." Hermione was still trying to come to terms with where in the blazes they were - Draco Malfoy's words were barely registering (although the word whore got a well-deserved glare). "But I forget myself - you hail from here!" And Draco Malfoy laughed, pulling a "catching up at last" Granger into the crook of his elbow, as he guided her towards the door. "Good thing we lost the robes, dearie..." His smile was somehow feline, the smile of a cat who's put your best friends pet rat in your shoe.

They stepped out into a red carpeted hallway, and Draco Malfoy walked along briskly, as Hermione Granger - eyes sparking, finally worked up the braincells to say something, "Mister Malfoy, where are you taking me?"

"La Boheme - by Puccini," Draco said with another catlike smile. He took three strides forward - Hermione had stopped, and said with satisfaction, "Ah! Here we are - after you, my pearl," he said, opening the door.

"I'm not your anything." Hermione said, stiffbacked, as she entered the room.

"You are my date - for tonight." Draco said, pausing a moment, "Sit down, relax." He plopped down in a seat, resting his crossed feet on the bannister indolently.

"But! These are box seats! They must cost a fortune!" Granger said, wringing her hands in agitation.

"Anything to get away from the press - here, look at this -" Draco Malfoy handed Granger a picture, which showed Deanna Vermier, her hair all in disarray, microphones pressing awkwardly into portions of her anatomy that did not welcome the strange intrusion. "This is what happens when you see the press on their terms."

"Wow, they really go after you, don't they?" Hermione Granger said with false sympathy. "Maybe if you didn't go out with a witch a week..."

"Are you offering?" Again, that catlike grin played across his face. "Anyway, if you insist on going dutch, you can reimburse me for the cost of a regular seat. Not that these cost me a dime - we paid for the theater a long time ago."

"You, Draco Malfoy, own a theater?" Hermione's laughter sounded like brassy bells, "Wonders shall never cease!"

"Not for tonight, at any rate. Sit back, and enjoy the legerdemain."

And Granger did, seating herself carefully - not inclined away nor towards Malfoy, who rather approved of the punctiliousness.

[a/n: Every time I start writing this date gets weirder. I hope you enjoy... write a review, please?]


	6. A Delightful Little Hole in the Wall

It was a beautiful opera - though Granger winced a couple of times at high notes, and Malfoy could tell that she was moved by it. As they stood to walk out, Malfoy said with a cutting smile, "So how much like your courtship with Weasley was this?"

Again with that brassy laughter - guaranteed to set Malfoy's teeth on edge. "Absolutely nothing alike. You might say it better resembles Ginny and Harry, actually..." She said, pursing her lips in thought.

"But Harry's wealthy enough to be the viscount!" Malfoy said, trying again not to let show how much it grated that Potter was wealthy. Draco certainly wasn't nearly as wealthy as his father had been. And for once, the family's ruination (oh, the dramatics!) hadn't been bribes. Ironic, wasn't it?**

Granger's brown eyes glittered with golden flecks, as she giggled and said, "But nobody told him he was wealthy, and he only had enough for school expenses and pocket change." Draco smirked, and Granger cut in before he could say a word, "Normal pocket change, not galleons on galleons."

"What did he do with the money from the Tournament? Did he ever even get it?"

"Invested it, actually..." Granger said, a Slytherin smile sauntering on her lips. "Someplace safe, if not necessarily stable."

"Interesting... maybe I should look into that." Malfoy said contemplatingly. It never hurt to know everything, after all. And something about the way that Granger was hiding this said that it would be fascinating. "But I promised you dinner, dah-ling, and dinner you shall have!" He said with a gallant bow, escorting her out of the theater. "It just so happens I know a charming hole in the wall around here somewhere. It won't be the Ritz, but the food doesn't suffer... much."

"Sounds delightful. Any chance of vegetarian?"

"For you, my lady? Anything you'd like..."

They walked along the streets for about ten minutes, Draco shielding Granger from the splashes of cars by walking on the outside. Granger kept shooting him curious looks, until finally he couldn't stand it, and said crossly, "What? Say _something_! Stop peeping!"

Granger's mouth fell open, _aha! I win again!_ , and she paused for a good minute, before saying, almost humbly, "It's just that you seem so familiar with all of this... I wouldn't - didn't -" Granger was wise enough not to finish the sentence, which Draco appreciated.

"Slytherins are adaptable people, you'll find. You can't get to where you want to go without compromises." Draco said, flashing one of his charming smiles.*** "ah, here we are!"

Granger's eyes widened in surprise, as they turned out from a sidealley and looked at the restaurant. It was literally named "Hole in the Wall", although no actual holes were evident. There was a profound odor of yeasty beer, and from the looks of it, cooks slinging burgers. Granger glanced at Malfoy, with an eyebrow raised. Malfoy smirked back, saying, "I trust this meets with your approval?"

Granger threw her head back, and laughed, "Oh, yes! Very much!" _Betcha she's thinking about telling Potter about this..._

**no, Draco, not ironic.

*** modest, he is not!

[a/n: sneaky slytherins. What dear Draco isn't saying is that his crew learned how to work in the Muggle world because the rest of the Wizarding World wouldn't have anything to do with them].


	7. Nott a Pleasant Situation

Draco Malfoy escorted Hermione Granger into the restaurant, her hand in the crook of her arm. It would have looked completely awkward in the mildly disheveled restaurant (the floors were even somewhat sticky), if their getup had not been quite so appropos. As it was, the medieval gestures seemed like a pleasantly ironic sort of mockery. "Grab us a booth in the back." Draco Malfoy said with the hint of a man accustomed to giving orders - someone who didn't know better would think him ex-military.

"What, I don't even get to order for myself?" Granger asked, stepping close to Draco.

"Just trust me..." Draco said soothingly, knowing the words were futile before he said them - his gray eyes flashing tempermentally in the dim light.

"And just _what_ have _you_ done that makes you trustworthy?" Granger spat out, her hands on her hips, her brown eyes flashing gold.

Draco Malfoy sighed, dramatically, and said, "Consider it a test then..." His eyes met hers levelly, willing her to go along with his scheme.

"A test? Of what?" Granger's head toss (and snort) caused her wild hair to nearly buffet Draco in the face - he naturally ducked to avoid it.

"Of observation, of course." Draco Malfoy countered smoothly, hoping to keep Granger calm enough that the entire restaurant wouldn't feel compelled to eavesdrop on their conversation. _Not that he'd ever done that himself, of course._

Draco Malfoy ordered with a practiced air of nonchalance, knowing that if Granger was looking at him, she'd quickly come to the conclusion that he had been here before. As the wrapped burgers were put on trays, he gracefully maneuvered the two trays back to their table, to find Granger measuring the mood of the patrons. Draco Malfoy approved, he rather enjoyed crowdwatching himself.

Granger unwrapped her burger, poorly concealed excitement hiding under an affected nonchalance. Without taking a bite, she opened the burger, studying the toppings. "No mayo, extra onions - but no lettuce?"

Granger quirked an eyebrow at Malfoy, who responded, "The lettuce isn't good until April at least."

"And yet you got me a cardboard tomato!" Granger laughed gently.

"It wouldn't be proper without one." Draco Malfoy said with forced politeness.

"Very well, I shall try it." Granger responded with determined tones more reminiscent of someone trying Longbottom's potions, her eyes sparkling merrily.

"I hope you like it." Draco said mildly.

A closelipped smile was all that Draco got in confirmation of Granger's enjoyment - and yet it sent a warm feeling into his chest. Smug and satisfied, he sat back into the corner of the booth as he very delicately began to unwrap his own burger. **

Above Granger's head, Theo Nott appeared, obviously kneeling on the booth in front of them. "Draco, Draco, Draco, to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure? And on a Friday night no less?" Draco started to open his mouth, when Nott continued teasingly, "Isn't that your normal date night?" His nose undoubtedly tickled by Granger's puissant hair, Nott at this point looked downwards, at the brown puff of frizz, saying warmly "Oh, you _did_ bring a date! How peculiar." Stepping around the booth, Nott made as if to slide in beside Granger - before his face froze, as he belated realized who was there.

With ice in his voice - and an undercurrent of steel, Nott said cuttingly, "And look! She's not even a muggle!"

Draco Malfoy's grey eyes flashed an unreadable emotion, as his hands carelessly gestured, "As good as one, anyway." It was only as Draco Malfoy caught sight of Granger's eyes that he realized his mistake. _Shit._

"Why, Draco - what possible reason could you have...?" Nott's voice was so venomous it didn't matter _what_ he was saying - the tone said everything.

 _Shift the playing field, **now**._ Draco thought, as he said, "Surely you don't think Miss High and Mighty Gryffindor is going to turn you in?" His eyes glinted with challenge, as Nott had been challenging Draco's judgement.

"See that she doesn't." Nott said coldly, turning and walking away with his head held high. _Shite, that could have gone much better._ Draco thought.

Hermione Granger grabbed her soda, took the lid off, and threw it at his face. "Ooops, my hand slipped. How careless of me." She said with an affected air, her eyes glimmering - and her teeth grinning like a cat stalking her prey.

Draco, now sopping wet and dripping, wiped his eyes free of the sugary drink. With effort, Draco Malfoy pulled his tattered dignity together, and said, "I don't know what I've done to offend you, so, but I must beg you be a bit quieter with your displeasure, lest we be forced to leave this restaurant as well, and conduct an argument on the street like savages."

Granger's eyes promised an accounting later, but her mouth quirked into a grin - more at Draco Malfoy's deplorable lack of dry than anything else, he suspected. With mock offense, he said, "This was a silk shirt! It's going to _shrink_!"

As dinner had been delayed, they turned to their food with gusto. After about five minutes, Draco said calmly, "You've got a week, Granger."

"A week?" Granger had the bad manners to talk with her mouth full - and Draco found himself wondering if that was deliberate on her part.

Suppressing a shudder, Draco said, "To tell your friends." He paused for a moment and said, "If I may suggest - you might try telling Potter and his girlfriend at once - you'll save yourself half the time of being deafened because of their shouting."

"Why would I need to tell them a thing? We go out on a first date, and that's suddenly everyone's business?"

"The picture will be in the paper in a week." Draco paused, and continued, "You can either tell them or let them read about it."

"I'd better tell them." Granger said, and Draco was pleased to see that she wasn't fidgeting or looking nervous. Sometimes it was harder to remember they had fought on two sides of the same war. Somehow, he suspected, the war had been easier on her side.

Draco nodded gruffly, and said, "If I can ask a favor - could you tell me directly after you tell them?"

"Mmm...?" Granger asked, "Why would you want to know about that?"

"I have my reasons..." Draco Malfoy said.

"Just like you have reasons for this date, hmmm?" Granger's eyes sparkled with a trace of delight - swiftly submerged under the anger from earlier.

"Of course." Draco said smoothly.

"What will you give me for it?" Granger asked, her eyes flinty hard.

"An apology." Draco Malfoy said unhesitatingly.

"For what?" Granger responded challengingly.

"You pick." Draco Malfoy said levelly.

"Okay." Granger said, and left it at that. Draco Malfoy knew in that instant that he'd made a mistake...

** Granger was sitting facing the wall, Draco has his back against the wall.

[a/n: ahh, the wonders of people who don't pay attention. Write a review, if you like this.]


	8. Nott Again

[redoing last chapter. forgot draco's not dressed at all reasonably. Nott has different expectations for a "daftly dressed" Draco. Will edit out last chapter's end soonly.]

Above Granger's head, Theo Nott appeared, obviously kneeling on the booth in front of them. "Draco, Draco, Draco, to whom do I owe this unexpected pleasure? And on a Friday night no less? You look like your date put you through the wringer..." Draco started to open his mouth, when Nott continued teasingly, "Perhaps literally? You know when they say don't let her cast a spell on you, they mean it figuratively..." His nose undoubtedly tickled by Granger's puissant hair, Nott at this point looked downwards, at the brown puff of frizz, saying warmly "Oh, your date decided to stick with you, even after you showed up looking like _that_? How peculiar." Stepping around the booth, Nott made as if to slide in beside Granger - before his face froze, as he belated realized who was there.

With ice in his low voice - and an undercurrent of steel, Nott said cuttingly, "And look! She's not even a muggle!"

Draco Malfoy's grey eyes flashed an unreadable emotion, as his hands carelessly gestured, "As good as one, anyway." It was only as Draco Malfoy caught sight of Granger's eyes that he realized his mistake. _Shit._

"Why, Draco - what possible reason could you have...?" Nott's voice was so venomous it didn't matter _what_ he was saying - the tone said everything.

 _Shift the playing field,_ _ **now**_ _._ Draco thought, as he said, "Surely you don't think Miss High and Mighty Gryffindor is going to turn you in?" His eyes glinted with challenge, as Nott had been challenging Draco's judgement.

"See that she doesn't." Nott said coldly, turning and walking away with his head held high. _Shite, that could have gone much better._ Draco thought.

Hermione Granger grabbed her soda, took the lid off, and threw it at his face. "Ooops, my hand slipped. How careless of me." She said with an affected air, her eyes glimmering - and her teeth grinning like a cat stalking her prey.

Draco, now sopping wet and dripping, wiped his eyes free of the sugary drink. With effort, Draco Malfoy pulled his tattered dignity together, and said, "I don't know what I've done to offend you, so, but I must beg you be a bit quieter with your displeasure, lest we be forced to leave this restaurant as well, and conduct an argument on the street like savages."

Granger's eyes promised an accounting later, but her mouth quirked into a grin - more at Draco Malfoy's deplorable lack of dry than anything else, he suspected. With mock offense, he said, "This was a silk shirt! It's going to _shrink_!"

"You, sir, are an arse. What the hell was your friend on about, anyhow?" Granger demanded.

"Let's eat first, I wouldn't want to spoil your supper with unpleasant conversation." Draco said smoothly. It was worth it to watch Granger's eyes flash red.

As dinner had been delayed, they turned to their food with gusto. After about five minutes, Draco said calmly, "You've got a week, Granger."

"A week?" Granger had the bad manners to talk with her mouth full - and Draco found himself wondering if that was deliberate on her part.

Suppressing a shudder, Draco said, "To tell your friends." He paused for a moment and said, "If I may suggest - you might try telling Potter and his girlfriend at once - you'll save yourself half the time of being deafened because of their shouting."

"Why would I need to tell them a thing? We go out on a first date, and that's suddenly everyone's business?"

"The picture will be in the paper in a week." Draco paused, and continued, "You can either tell them or let them read about it."

"I'd better tell them." Granger said, and Draco was pleased to see that she wasn't fidgeting or looking nervous. Sometimes it was harder to remember they had fought on two sides of the same war. Somehow, he suspected, the war had been easier on her side.

Draco nodded gruffly, and said, "If I can ask a favor - could you tell me directly after you tell them?"

"Mmm...?" Granger asked, "Why would you want to know about that?"

"I have my reasons..." Draco Malfoy said.

"Just like you have reasons for this date, hmmm?" Granger's eyes sparkled with a trace of delight - swiftly submerged under the anger from earlier.

"Of course." Draco said smoothly.

"What will you give me for it?" Granger asked, her eyes flinty hard.

"An apology." Draco Malfoy said unhesitatingly.

"For what?" Granger responded challengingly.

"You pick." Draco Malfoy said levelly.

"Okay." Granger said, and left it at that. Draco Malfoy knew in that instant that he'd made a mistake...

** Granger was sitting facing the wall, Draco has his back against the wall.

[a/n: ahh, the wonders of people who don't pay attention. Write a review, if you like this.]


	9. To Business

Hermione Granger said sharply, as she set down her nearly finished hamburger. "What, exactly was that about with Nott?"

Dropping a chip on his plate, Draco Malfoy looked up sharply his seemingly startled expression charmingly open, while he internally started cursing. He knew that tone of voice, and it never meant anything good.

Draco leaned back carefully, saying with a casual smile, "Oh, he just doesn't know you as well as I do..."

"Hermione Granger - the girl you just said was almost as good as a Muggle?" Hermione's voice was low, more a growl than a purr, the fury leashed, but only just.

"Yeah, that one." Draco said, his smile unwavering as he played for three shakes of time. Well, when all else fails, go for flattery. "That smart and capable person who's really more than the goody-two-shoes that Nott thinks you are." Draco let his eyes brighten, the intrigue making them sparkle - he hoped it would pass for infatuation, or perhaps even love.

"Are you two being bad boys? Is there something I should run to schoolmarm McGonagall and tell her about?" Granger's eyes sparkled back with amusement, and Draco fought himself briefly, enforcing a studied casualness that was very different than the ice coursing through his veins. That amusement was only layered over the anger, concealing it just a bit.

"Oh, I assure you, it's not that serious." Draco paused dramatically, "Of course, you could always _make_ it that serious... simply by speaking up..." Which she could, and Draco fervently hoped she wouldn't. He was _nearly_ certain she wouldn't.

"I begin to suspect you of plotting..." Hermione said with a significantly more cheerful - and inquisitive - grin. If Draco wasn't careful, he'd wind up hexed for trying her patience, instead of for insulting her.

Draco leaned back, a grand gesture where he rested both hands behind his head, and said in the most casual and uncaring voice he owned, "After the war, it would seem that the Ministry decided that Slytherins - and suspected DE's in particular" he said, mindful to watch his language, "were going to pay more in taxes than the rest of you lot. Some sort of disincentive to ..." Draco trailed off, looking into the distance, as if he was really trying to understand. Draco instead shrugged, and said, "I'm not really sure what. Maybe keep us living off estates, instead of working like decent people?"

Granger's eyes were wide, her lips parted, but she asked simply, "How much?"

"Half our earnings on any income that's not real estate." Draco stretched his arms above his head, "I don't have to worry about it much - the Malfoy wealth is good for something, at any rate."

"Half?! But - that's outrageous!" Granger's eyes sparkled, as her body settled into a far more determined state, that obscurely reminded Malfoy of house elves.

"It's why Nott's shop is here. He does pay taxes, you know - to the proper Department of Revenue." Draco said coldly.

"But... the Ministry couldn't have wanted you to - not on a Muggle business!"

"I'm not so sure they would care. The law certainly makes no such distinction."

"They don't know, do they?"

"You won't tell them, will you." Draco said, the words a question, but the tone iron with certainty.

"But! They shouldn't get away with this!"

"It got a few politicians a few more votes. They haven't budgeted for money they don't know about. And to all experiences, we all make modest incomes. "

Hermione gave a snort-giggle at that.

"Oh, fine, everyone except me. But everyone knows how fabulously wealthy the Malfoys are. And I'm not the one with my neck on the line."

"How can you be okay with the subjugation? the prejudice?"

"I'm not. Neither is Nott, to tell the truth. However, they can't steal from us if they don't know what we're doing, and the goblins are notoriously quiet about gold. There's little real injustice to be found." Draco paused, letting the moment build up a trace of drama. "I would have thought you of all people would appreciate the irony, that suspected DEs are forced to trades in the muggle world."

Hermione gave a sharp nod, "No wonder why you were saying that I was as good as a Muggle." She looked around them, took one last slurp of her soda, and then stood up. "Since your ideas have completely failed, may we try one of mine?"

"The lady is always right..." Draco said, his mind spinning to figure out what she was going to do. He always hated being in the dark.

"Then cards it is, then!" Hermione Granger nodded firmly. "Find Nott. Drag him out if necessary."

Draco merely reclined, raising an eyebrow.

"Tell him he will come if he knows what's good for him." Hermione Granger's eye had started with that unpleasant glint that meant she was busy envisioning different methods of enforcing and demanding Nott's participation. "And then we'll decide on a fourth."

[Because Cards! Also, because this date is getting even weirder.

Leave a review! Reviews mean I write more!]


	10. Lockpicking

And people said that he was arrogant, Draco thought rather grimly to himself, as he ascended the stairs to Nott's eyrie. Granger was rather taken with ordering around anyone that so happened to set foot near her - Draco idly supposed that had something to do with being the only one in Gryffindor with a brain and motivation to use it, save Neville Longbottom - of all people.

Now, normally, it would be easy enough to convince Nott to do something barmy like cards. Theo tended towards the morose, and was never the life of a party, so cards were normally much more of his forte. When all else failed, one hid behind the hand one was dealt, no? Theo could be quite charming - over cards. Never a flirt, never a word to a woman's beauty. Ah! But he did know a half dozen ways to compliment a girl's mind, her intuition, her wit. Draco Malfoy was half nonplussed that Nott hadn't managed to wed a Ravenclaw - _before_.

As it was, Theo Nott was quite cross with Malfoy - he had made that quite plain, and thus it wasn't just an ordinary lock that Draco Malfoy had to deal with. No, this was a Muggle lock. Well, Draco Malfoy still had access to quite a few skills he had picked up in the Dark Lord's Service, and he had a feeling that one of them was about to come in handy. (At least it wasn't torture. Draco hated when that one came in handy. It generally meant a bad day for all involved. **)

Kneeling, Draco fished out his three lockpicks (he had a bigger set at home, but hadn't expected to be needing it _on a first date_.***), and began to fiddle with the door. He had two tumblers turned just so, before he heard the lock itself turning. Quickly, he scrambled to his feet, tucking the tools behind his back.

"Really, Draco? Think you can hide what I've been listening to you work on for the last five minutes?"

"Give me credit for trying..." Draco gave his 'friend' a wide, toothy grin.

"Trying?! You didn't even knock!"

"You'd have answered?" Draco said, with a raised eyebrow, his mouth quirking into a smirk as Nott's mouth began to form - Draco cut him off, "No, don't bother. You just wanted an excuse to tell me to go away."

"What of it, you pillock?"

"You, my dear friend, are invited to a soiree. I hear tell there are cards." Draco said with a hopefully winning smile.

Nott eyed him in return like ... well, any sane person would eye a smiling Slytherin. Which is to say, suspiciously. Leaning back against a chair, Nott said smoothly, "Let's not do this. Who what where when why, and, most importantly - how?"

"My date of the evening feels that you don't know her well enough to justify your mistaken impression of her earlier tonight. I believe she would like to correct that misapprehension. I also believe that she's enough of the sporting type, that she'd take you winning as a reason not to go running to the Ministry." Draco said smoothly, pausing for a breath as Nott looked rather coldly enraged, "At any rate, you're coming. My lady won't be taking no for an answer. I'm just the welcoming party."

"What do you mean-?" Nott squawked, his eyes wide as they had gotten when, as children, Snape had been on the prowl for them (hiding behind a suit of armor, of all stupendously stupid things).

"Are you two done arguing yet? Hearts, Clubs, or Dragon Poker?" Hermione Granger called up to them. Draco Malfoy fought to keep himself from starting. He had sworn the door had closed behind him - and, beyond that, he didn't think _Hermione Granger_ would have stood quietly while he was picking his 'friend''s front door.

Perhaps she wasn't quite as sanctimonious as he had thought.

[a/n: I swear, I meant to get farther. Write a review, dudes and dudettes!]

**Professional torturers do their jobs without leaving a mark on someone. it's only amateurs that cause blood and gore.

***Breaking and entering is for third dates, at least.


	11. Suspicious Natures

"Why should I do anything you say?" Nott ground out, his arms crossed as he tried to give Hermione Granger an arrogant, almost unconcerned look. Draco Malfoy could have told him not to bother - Hermione Granger wasn't impressed by such, as he should well know, having used such on her countless times before, to zero (or less than zero) effect.

"Why? Because I know your secret. And while I wasn't terribly inclined to go running to the Minister-" Draco could see the point at which Nott realized that Granger knew the Minister, and was quite capable of tattling if she so chose. He wouldn't even have the opportunity of bolloxing it up through proper (which is to say Slytherin) channels. "If you won't even sit down for a hand of cards, well, then it's obvious that you're clearly up to no good."

Hermione Granger's eyes flicked levelly to Draco Malfoy, "How likely do you think I am to put up with no good?"

"Not very, I must admit." Draco Malfoy drawled, "Although it would surprise me if you didn't try to fix the problem yourself, rather than running to tug on the Minister's apronstrings." With a quick glance, Theo sent Draco about half of a "thank you".

"Well, Mister Nott, are you willing to take that chance? Or would you rather sit down, break bread with me, and deal up a hand of cards?" Hermione looked smug - and controlling, Draco thought. Still, she was doing a better job of bargaining than most Gryffindors did.

Nott looked at her for a long time - nearly a minute, before he said, consideringly, "You won't tell the Minister if I win?"

"Provided your operations are as has been represented to me." Hermione Granger responded succinctly.

When Nott sent the both of them a skeptical look, Draco Malfoy responded, "I didn't lie to her. You know me better than that."

Theo responded, "Drake, you're many things. But foremost, you're a liar and a thief."

Draco responded with a slow, cunning smile, "It takes one to know one, doesn't it?"

Hermione Granger stomped her foot, saying huffily, "Boys!" in a tone Draco had heard often - used with Potty and Weasel. It wasn't a fair comparison, he thought gruffly. But they had been arguing...

Hermione Granger gave a longsuffering sigh. "Fine, I'll spell it out. Provided you aren't abusing your workers, selling illegal merchandise under the table, or blatantly trying to cheat both sides of our government via self-inserted loopholes in the taxation scheme..." The look Draco shot Granger was frankly admiring - that was a clever thing to put in, wasn't it?

Hermione continued as if he had done nothing, "or anything else nefarious I haven't thought of."

Nott looked properly skeptical. "Besides, what have you got to lose?" And Granger shot them both that reckless Gryffindor grin.

"Have it your way." Nott spat.

"You do realize that blackmailing him isn't likely to get you a terribly pleasant companion, don't you?" Draco Malfoy drawled at Hermione Granger.

"I don't care, so long as he plays."

"You'll find I'm a fine card sharp, Miss Granger."

[a/n: Taking guesses as to the fourth!]


	12. A Fourth

"We'll need a fourth won't we?" Nott said, "I don't think Pansy is going to oblige, so does anyone else have suggestions?" Before either could get a word out, Nott continued, "Not Greg, Drake, not if you value your shoes."

Draco's response was a dry, light chuckle. Hermione Granger stepped in to fill the breach. "I've three in mind, your choice. Gin Weasley, Harry Potter, or Luna Lovegood."

Draco rolled his eyes, but said dryly, "I think two Gryffindors across from two Slytherins sounds entirely too much like a jest in the making. Lovegood it is." And Draco Malfoy found himself hoping to hell that Granger knew what she was doing - and that it wasn't too terribly nefarious at that. He knew a forced move when he saw one, and expecting him to choose either a Weasley or Harry Potter was completely unthinkable.

Nott eyed the proceedings skeptically, before saying laconically (he knew a forced pick as well as Draco did), "They're your enemies, not mine. Still, I think you have the right of it. Lovegood looks to be an easy mark, and that's before you start listening to her stories. I bet she's got a mouth to her, if you care to get her going..." Typical Nott, eye on the gold this time.

"My place will do, if there are no objections?" Hermione Granger said with a stilted smile - was she smarting at the comment about her ditz of a friend, or about the obvious skepticism of Mr. Nott? Draco wasn't quite sure. Still, his own home was rather inconveniently crowded with his parents, and Nott's small flat was hardly the place to have a card table (besides, it smelt like hamburgers). And so both men simply nodded at her, and she asked with a smile, "Do you have a floo?"

"Of course, but you can just apparate us, can't you?" Nott said, still not willing to give an inch.

"Oh, you'd hardly have slaves in your attic, now would you?" Hermione Granger said, and if at first that sounded like she was simply laughing at him, by the end she was eyeing him a bit closely.

"Oh, very well." Nott conceded with ill-borne grace. "My floo." Draco Malfoy strode upwards, and was glad momentarily that Granger hadn't stopped to stare - or to mouth off. She simply stepped into the floo, as if she owned the place. Nott, of course, fixed the door before heading out, leaving Draco and Hermione standing on the other side for a moment.

Draco used the moment well, giving himself a glance at the horribly clashing orange daybed, and the minty green color scheme of everything else in the room. Mentally, he shrugged. It's not gold and red, and you'd better get used to it.

Nott emerged, smirking a bit as he caught sight of Hermione Granger wrestling a card table by herself into the middle of the floor. "Well, aren't you going to help her, like a gentleman?"

"And since when have I been a gentleman?" Draco Malfoy replied smoothly, pasted on his face a smugly smooth smile.

"Since your mum caught you shoving Pansy's face into your birthday cake!" Theo Nott said with a triumphant snicker.

"Where are the cards?" Draco Malfoy said to Hermione, perhaps in an effort to be helpful. Then again, he might just want to pinch the aces.

"I suppose I'd better let you talk to the Ravenclaw. She doesn't know me from Merlin!" Nott said, consciously trying to be more of a gentleman than Malfoy.

"The cards are buried in a drawer - I'll have them out in a trice. And you're right, Mister Nott, I should get Luna next."

[a/n: Did anyone guess Luna? Drop a review if you like this - or even if you don't.]


	13. Delighted

Luna stepped through the Floo, and Draco Malfoy took the moment to look her over. Blonde, with clover-honey hair and bright blue eyes - often dazed, now blinking. And were those carrots about her neck? Honestly! Some people took eyecatching to new heights! And radishes in her ears!

Catching himself, Draco Malfoy dropped elegantly (unlike Potter, he did not flop) into a seat on the couch, his sprawling form taking up more than half the object. "Welcome," he said, gesturing grandly. "Granger will be along in a moment."

"Ah." Luna said, "I had wondered why you were welcoming me. Best not to let Hermione hear you welcoming me to her flat, you realize?"

Draco inclined his head smoothly. "I doubt my date would be pleased with that." Luna's eyes sharpened, slightly, as she looked at him with the hint of a frown on your face.

"Miss Luna Lovegood, I don't believe we've been properly introduced." Nott said, managing a brief glare at Draco for monopolizing the girl's scattered attention.

"Mister Theodore Nott, I have not yet had the pleasure of making a formal acquaintance of you. What do you know of crumplehorned snorkacks?"

"Precious little, I'm afraid... Perhaps you might enlighten me?" Nott's courtesy was well-schooled, although Draco Malfoy found himself wondering if Theo knew what he was getting himself into.

Theo and Luna stood talking, while Draco Malfoy lounged nearby on the couch. For five minutes. Suddenly, a thought came to him - he hadn't seen a single candle while he was here. In fact, he wondered, as he looked up, was this a Muggle flat? He opened his mouth to say something-

Like a herd of elephants were on her heels, Hermione Granger plunged into the room, waving a pack of cards as if it was the Goblet of Fire itself! "Finally! I found them!" Her face was consumed by an all-encompassing fiery grin. Draco Malfoy slid smoothly into an upright position, sitting decorously on the couch and paying attention.

[a/n: Draco's POV. Draco thinks he's elegant. Draco is also smug and arrogant.

More Luna next time, leave a review if you please!]


	14. Sparkletime!

"Congratulations, Hermione!" Luna said with an airy smile, that neared on vacuous without quite touching it. "Why are two Slytherins here to play cards? And one of them, I presume, that's your date? Perhaps the rather awkwardly dressed one? You two do seem to match."

Draco looked down at his "clubbing clothes" and mentally swore. Leather and hairdye and chains were honestly not the look he preferred. Still, he looked up from his self-appraisal, and found Granger doing the exact same thing. _Buy me a drink,_ he thought with a smirk.

"Well, I thought since our date was going so disasterously awful - oh, don't worry, you'll read about it all in the Prophet..." Hermione said, taking a breath, "I thought we ought to try this _my_ way, and play cards!"

"You're making a profit off your date again?" Nott said with a crafty smile. Devious that one, always devious.

"Nothing wrong with distracting my mother, if you take my meaning." Draco drawled back.

Luna's voice took on an abnormal sharpness, and Draco hurriedly yanked his attention back to the main conversation, "No, that won't do at all!"

"Why not?" Hermione asked mildly.

"Because if you and Theo are going to have a bet, well, then Draco and I should as well. Fair's fair, isn't it?"

Draco blinked. Luna Lovegood wanted a bet, with him. Most people were smart enough not to bet with a Slytherin. "What have you got to bet?"

"A retraction of my opinions on you." Luna said promptly, her eyes focusing for once on Draco's steel gaze.

"What?" Draco responded back.

"Isn't that what Nott is offering Hermione? If she wins, that is?" Luna blinked at him.

"Not exactly" Theo Nott responded.

"I think he's really just offering a decent night of cards, Luna." Hermione put in helpfully.

"Oh! Well, I can certainly offer that!" Luna said with a firm nod. "Draco Malfoy, do you know how impossible it is to get anything published at that paper you run? I do believe someone's put the word out that I'm a crackpot or something! I assure you my head does not have cracks in it, and I do not care for aluminium in any case to wrap it with!" Luna Lovegood actually stamped her foot at the last.

Theo spoke up, cannily, "That might have something to do with the imaginary creatures you keep on wanting to talk about."

"Or the fact that your father has zero quality control on his own paper. You're too used to a lax editor, I think." Draco drawled out.

"Honey, play nice." Hermione said, bouncing into the couch beside Draco - and incidentally, elbowing him in the side.

Luna began a very animated discussion (with mostly herself, with occasional segues and interludes by both Theo and Hermione) about all the "imaginary" creatures that had been found in the last century. Even mooncalves were mentioned. Draco was _beyond_ bored, and really just wanted to play cards. With difficulty, he schooled his face into "barely interested."

"And that's why I want the bet to be that if I win, Draco Malfoy has to publish an article of mine in his paper!"

"And what makes you think it's at all publishable?"

Luna smiled a daffy, vacant smile, "If it's not publishable, you needn't publish it. In fact, I'll go one more on your side. Publish it, by all means, in the appropriate section."

"So you don't mind if your next screed on imaginary creatures that only you and Dumbledore have even heard of goes in the opinion section?" Draco drawled.

"Precisely." Luna said, smiling.

Draco would later say he didn't know whether he was merely bored with the conversation, or that he was actually curious if the Ravenclaw could actually find something sourceable... But, at that moment, it just seemed like a fair deal. "Deal."

"I'll _try_ not to ruin you." Luna said with a smile that suddenly grew werewolf teeth.

[a/n: Because we all knew that Luna's daffiness was half pose and half mask. One more chappie on the first date. Wheew, this is going long! Write me a review, you!]


	15. Hands of Doom!

"Bridge, Dragon Poker, or Gin?" Granger said with a smile.

"Dragon Poker," Draco said, sitting up straight - "It's even got my name in it."

"Gin!" Nott said smiling. "If we let him play that, we'll never get home."

"I prefer Gin," Luna said with a smile, "If only because I'm better at it."

Granger looked down at Draco, who hadnt stood out of the sofa yet. In an undertone, she muttered, "She's lying, you know. She always wins at Dragon Poker, no matter who's playing."

Standing, Draco gave Granger a quiet nod, as they all sat down at the card table.

"Ten rounds, or until we hit four of the clock. I do need a bit of sleep before tommorow."

Draco, stretching languidly, said, "But it's Sunday, why do you need sleep for Sunday?"

Granger turned towards him and responded, "Sunday dinner, of course, at the Weasleys. If Molly sees me with circles under my eyes, I'll have to spend the entire dinner deflecting her from finding some way to saddle me with an entire week's worth of entirely-too-fattening cauldron cakes!"

"The horrors." Nott said with a toothy smile. "I'm not certain my mum has ever made a cauldron cake."

Draco responds, with an identical smile, "you know, you could always ask."

Cards fly here and there, Luna with the strange habit of bowing out of most hands, Draco taking a decent conservative strategy, with Granger and Nott playing the bluffing game, each one trying to see when they could talk the other out of more money. Draco was slowly building up a decent pile, while Granger and Nott were trading back and forth. On the last round, however, Luna shot the moon (yes, that's the actual term, Draco was distressed to find out), and swept up most of the winnings from that round, leaving her with double what Draco had. Granger had been soundly trounced by Nott (not that she looked like she minded, terribly much.) Draco conceded with less grace, finally letting himself wonder what in Hades Luna Lovegood had meant by "I'll try not to ruin you."

In the spirit of "get everyone out so I can go to sleep", Granger had nearly shoved both Luna and Nott out the door, leaving them to awkwardly walk down the steps together, no doubt. Draco, sensing Granger's mood, quirked his mouth as he slipped into the kitchen.

Granger stepped out of the living room, her face for once completely unguarded - the lines of stress showing quite clearly, and froze, looking at Draco Malfoy sitting at her kitchen table. "Draco, what are you still doing here?"

Standing, Draco gave a small bow, "Why, I wanted to thank you for a most lovely evening, and ask if you wanted this to be the end of the date."

Granger stared at him, uncomprehending, for three seconds. Then, he watched as her face flushed a most becoming shade of red. "Out! Yes, out!" she cried, pushing him from behind and propelling him into the living room.

"Care to do this again?" Draco said with aplomb, as if his dates traditionally shoved him out their front door at 3 in the morning.

"As long as I get to veto anymore reporters." Granger quipped back.

"It's a date," Draco said with a smile, as Granger smartly shut the door in his face.

[a/n: wheew! Date done! Yay! Write a review!

Hands of doom, by the way, is the title of a song caused by a mishearing of "handsome dude"]


	16. A moment later

A moment later (before Draco had had time to even turn, let alone apparate), Hermione Granger opened the door, and said, "Forgot. I'll tell them tommorrow, it's a little late tonight." Draco had time for a crisp nod of acknowledgement, before she gently shut the door.

He tumbled back to Malfoy Manor, and straight to bed, being tired from a combination of all the different mood swing, and the quantity of alcohol that he had imbibed. Nott would surely rag on him if he ever found out - Draco was lighter than most of his friends, and consequently had a lower alcohol tolerance.

The next morning, Draco Malfoy rose to greet the sun, his bleary eyes staring in mute horror at the sunlight. He had forgotten to close the drapes. He never forgot to close the drapes. Grumpily, he shut the drapes and drifted back to sleep, waking at around ten in the morn. As he sat up, he mentally reviewed the date. That was not how he had expected it to go - pretty much from start to finish. Excitement wasn't normally on his list of things to do on dates, after all. Peaceful, placid, content - and, as always, elegant. Not in a Muggle greasy spoon, never you mind that Theo owns it.

Pulling up quill and ink, he began to revise his plans.

[a/n: I'll write more next time? Leave a review, folks.]


	17. Visiting Gin and Harry

Hermione came to visit Harry and Ginny the next night. It was a cocktail night - some drinks after dinner. The perfect way to pass the time and talk with friends on a Saturday night. You wouldn't have thought the old place could look cheery - and particularly not with the color scheme! It was decorated anew in Gothic punk - blood reds and blacks and greys. Yet, despite the darkness, it had a sardonic sort of cheer to the place - there was an undercurrent of laughter in all the decorations.

Naturally, none of this felt like either Harry or Ginny. No, it felt like Sirius Black - years dead, and yet his presence was expertly crafted into the entire design of the house. Hermione Granger knew Harry liked it this way, and she - well, she understood, even if she didn't exactly approve. There was a time for grieving... And then there was a time to let the dead lie, and this hardly seemed the way to do it. **

Gin leaned forward, off the stiff leather couch, towards Hermione Granger in the overstuffed (and black) Queen Anne with the mahogany wood. "So, I heard you had a date last night?" She asked, twirling a lock of her hair in one of her hands.

"Yeah." Hermione Granger said, a little bit unsure what she was going to say.

"So, tell us all about it! Did you like the guy? How did it go? Did you kiss? Did you invite him up for coffee?" Gin asked, each question more invasive than the last. But that was Gin Weasley - the girl who had had no privacy growing up, so she didn't expect anyone to really care if she pryed into their lovelives.

"No coffee. Cards. No kissing." Hermione Granger made a face. "Like the guy?" Hermione laughed, shaking her head, "I hardly know him."

"Who is he?" Harry asked carefully.

"Draco Malfoy. He asked me out at Ron's wedding." Hermione Granger said, and she didn't miss the way Harry's fingers tightened around the goblet.

"You went out on a date with Draco Malfoy?!" Gin squealed, and Harry scootched a bit away from her, rubbing his ear.

Hermione regaled her eager audience - that is to say, Ginny - with the entire tale. Oh, Harry cracked a smile here or there, but mostly frowned, almost seeming lost in thought. Hermione knew that he was dwelling on Draco again. He had been obsessed with him in school (although, to be fair, Draco had seemed the same way), and it looks like Harry was still not exactly okay with this. Of course, Hermione Granger wasn't sure she was okay with this either. It was only the idea that Draco trusted her to figure it out for herself - instead of having to spill the beans, or expecting her to blow up when she did figure it out. Plus, Hermione Granger knew she was a sucker for mysteries. And this didn't seem like ... something casual. If you could say nothing about Draco Malfoy, underneath that chill exterior, he took everything seriously.

Gin laughed and said, "I still cant' believe you got Luna Lovegood to come!"

Hermione laughed back and said, "I almost wish you'd have come instead."

Gin responded back, "You are so lucky! Draco is so hot!"

Harry looked at Hermione and asked, "Do people really think that? Back in school, I always thought he looked like an albino or something."

Hermione shrugged, saying, "You know I don't listen to gossip. I figured most girls were after him for money."

Gin started to singsong, "Hermione's got a bo-oy friend, hermione's got a bo-oy friend!"

Hermione howled at this, saying with a chuckle, "It was just a first date." Looking down at her watch, she said hurriedly, "I have to get to bed. Now."

"You have to tell me about your next date!" Gin squealed as Hermione went towards the fireplace.

"I will when I know who it's with!" Hermione giggled.

Neither of them really took notice of the grim look on Harry Potter's face, or they would have said something about it.

**Hermione doesn't get the idea of celebrating the dead, or that Harry would want a reminder of someone who cared about just Harry. Harry hasn't tried to complain, as she hasn't ranted on the subject - to him. She said plenty to Ron.

[a/n: ahh... setup! Leave me a review?]


	18. Santy Clause

Harry Potter slept the sleep of the just, rising at dawn (memories of his Aunt wanted to crowd in, but he pushed them away with a scowl.) He didn't believe Draco Malfoy for a moment had just happened to run into Hermione Granger at Ron's wedding (why had Draco Malfoy even been there? he couldn't help but wonder). And he especially didn't believe that his hated rival would ask Hermione Granger out on a date. Well, without ulterior motives.

Harry Potter intended to figure out just what those motives were. Rising quietly out of bed (careful not to wake Ginny), he slipped into his Auror robes, before creeping down the stairs (bizarrely reminded of being in Hogwarts again - with Snape lurking around every corner). With a small smile on his face, he apparated away behind the house, to the Ministry of Magic.

Harry Potter strode into the Ministry's Auror office, reminded, as always, of Muggle police stations. There was some sort of gritty feel to the whole thing, no matter how well kept it was. Probably the interrogation rooms, he thought. It's a good thing I'm not dragging Malfoy back here, he'd probably piss himself. A few early risers (or those on night shift) waved at Harry, who waved back nonchalantly.

He headed into the Operations Store, where spare wands and potions and all manner of things were kept. With a whistle, he ducked behind three rows of inventory, finding the back room at last. He chanted a complicated spell (it had taken him two days to memorize), and the door creaked open with a gasp. Striding in, he took one of the three sets of keys off the wall. "Malfoy Manor" it proclaimed. Oh, the Malfoys had been simply delighted to give the Ministry carte blanche access to their house, saying that they would be "glad to be of service" in the case of an emergency. Harry Potter couldn't help but wonder at the look on Lady Malfoy's face if they ever set it up as a field hospital. Hopefully, it would never come to that.

* * *

Draco Malfoy had been awake since five in the morning. It was now six, and he felt the prickle of his wards on his skin. _Excellent, here comes Potter_ , Draco thought with a sense of anticipatory glee, as he closed his eyes, concentrating on having them not twitch (that was a sure sign that you were just pretending to be asleep). As Harry Potter didn't know which of the bedrooms was Draco's, it took him nearly half an hour to find out where Draco was ... sleeping. Listening, Draco Malfoy heard Harry Potter stride into the room, and then he heard, "Malfoy" growled in Potter's best impression of Moody at his angriest. Draco Malfoy didn't move a muscle. He heard Harry Potter approach a few steps (those rustly carpets were worth every galleon), and then felt his shoulder being poked by Harry Potter's wand.

Draco Malfoy sprang upright, suddenly enfolding Harry Potter in his arms, with the widest grin he could manage on his face, "Santa!" he cried out, looking for all the world like a five year old.

"Malfoy..." Harry Potter said, before pausing a moment. _He can't possibly be..._ Sleepwalking! Harry wanted to hit himself for even thinking half the thoughts that had rushed through his head. "Malfoy, _wake up_!" He shouted, his patience nearing the breaking point.


	19. Threats and Counters

Malfoy's eyes sprang open, as he looked at Harry Potter. He shut them carefully, making it look like he was blinking rapidly. "Potter?!" he asked, his voice ringing with consternation.

A moment later, Draco Malfoy seemed to realize where he was - in a koala-style embrace of Harry Potter. Hurriedly, he released the grown man - in Auror robes, no less!

Draco Malfoy fell to the floor with a thump, landing hard on his arse. "Oww!" he cried out, not making an effort to get up.

Harry Potter seemed to be trying to regain a semblance of dignity (true dignity was actually unknown to the bloke, Draco thought crossly.), stepping back and leveling his wand at Draco Malfoy.

Draco glared upward at Harry, his mouth curled into a frown. He was not amused. This was not amusing. There was no need to laugh.

In one smooth motion, Draco sprang to his feet - not at all surprised to find Harry Potter's wand rising with him.

"Potter, why in Merlin's sweet name are you in my house?!" Draco Malfoy said, as Harry Potter's mouth opened. Draco spat a quick timespell, looking at the results and said, "At FIVE in the MORNING!?"

Harry Potter again opened his mouth, only to be cut off by an incensed Draco Malfoy. "You do realize I have wards for a reason, don't you? They're to keep you and yours out, unless invited. Care to show me your engraved invitation?"

"No," Harry Potter growled, "I came to deliver a warning."

"Oh, a warning! And for this, you felt compelled to break into my house, at FIVE in the MORNING?!" Draco Malfoy looked him up and down.

"Yeah. I don't know what your game is - In fact, I don't _care_ **what** scheme you're concocting. If you so much as hurt a hair on Hermione's head..." Harry Potter growled at Draco Malfoy, who found himself comparing Potter to Moody. They both had the same devil-may-care attitude.

"You have no right to be here, do you?" Draco Malfoy hissed contemplatively, "Not at five in the morning. Not when I only went on a date Friday night. Ministry's not open till nine, is it?"

Harry Potter's response was a glare - the sort that told Draco he was right on target.

"Do you have any idea how much trouble you'd be in, if I told your superiors?" Draco Malfoy said with a slow, Slytherin smile.

"You wouldn't." Harry Potter spat.

"Perhaps not, " Draco Malfoy said with another granite smile, "But if you aren't out of here in ten seconds, I will tell Granger." Draco smirked at the unusual sound of apparition that greeted his pronouncement. Harry Potter, unusually wise of him, appeared to be quite afraid of Granger's response.

Whistling to himself, Draco lay back down to try and get another four hours sleep before morning.

[a/n: Draco is a bastard. Write a review!]


	20. Zambini Strikes Again

"Draco!" was the first word that Draco heard that morning, as he woke again. Blinking blearily, he wondered what had set his mother off.

"DRAAAA-coooo!" The voice sounded, closer and more imposing. That was a man's voice, Draco considered, so it probably wasn't his mother at all. And his father had never had the idea of yelling that loudly. Who was left? His godfather would never yell at him - especially when he deserved it. Snape's style had always been to get very, very quiet when he was upset with Draco. The quiet of ice on a river, slowly cracking beneath your feet, leaving you too afraid to run for the bank. It was devilishly effective too.

"Draco!" Blaise shouted, coming into Draco Malfoy's room. "Why aren't you up yet? We were going to Quiddich, for goodness sake!"

"Oh, the charity benefit. " Draco moaned, acting for all the world like he was completely sloshed still from overdrinking the night before. "Remind me why I signed up for that?"

"Because Tori's hot, and you could never turn down a cute pair?" Blaise said with a grand smile.

"Neither of those are true." Draco groaned, putting his hand on his head, and trying to shield his eyes from the light. Draco Malfoy was competent at most forms of lying, but he was an expert at playing sick.

"But you love me anyway!" Zambini said, his laughter joined momentarily by Draco's - after a distinct grimace to show off his theoretically throbbing head. "Now get up, you're going to be late!"

"It's fashionable to arrive late, you realize?"

"Not to QUIDDICH!" Blaise howled.

Draco compromised by grabbing his head in theoretical agony. "You may do me the courtesy of stepping outside my door. I'll be out in a bell."

"Make it half, or I'm coming in to grab you."

"You know you can't dress me, you remember how badly that turned out last time." Draco chuckled smugly.

"I was eight!"

"So was I. Your sense of dress continues to be atrocious."

At this point Blaise stomped out of the room, slamming the door. Draco laid back down, pausing for a few minutes to gather his thoughts. He always had a gameplan for Quiddich, and he just needed to recollect a few things. In his mind's eye, he sketched out the appropriate moves and countermeasures, and then swiftly stood, donning his clothes without pretense because Blaise was just outside.

As he walked out (presumably having quaffed a hangover draught), Draco smiled at Blaise and said, "I think today is going to be a marvelous day." Blaise looked at him sideyed, as he well remembered the last time Draco had said something so optimistic.

"Why so?"

"I've got a mark on the Golden Boy himself."

"Harry Potter? Drake, you've got to stop with this stuff!" Blaise said, crossing his arms like he always did when he was truly upset. "He's going to throw you in jail or something!"

"That's the best part! He can _try_." Draco Malfoy's face had taken on that cruel grin that he often wore when he contemplated bollixing up the Chosen One's plans. Draco Malfoy was rather good at breaking things, after all.

[a/n: trolling ain't fun unless you have someone to share it with. Leave a review!]


	21. Draco wants another date

Hermione had known that the storm she was going to walk into at work was going to be extravagant. Girls were such filthy gossips, and she was perfectly prepared for Lavender and Parvati swooping down on her (out of nowhere, as they didn't even work in her department).

So she wasn't at all surprised, walking through the corridors to hear giggling, and see girls peeking out at her like she was Lady Godiva. She didn't let it affect her... much. She walked a little quicker - that was easy in flats, after all. Hermione hadn't gone to a jot of trouble with her appearance today - if anything, it was wilder and more ferocious than normal.

Her eyes widened as she turned the corner towards her corner office. All the men in the department were there, well, except for Richie-who-wouldn't-get-a-social-cue if it stood on him. And they wolf-whistled at her, as if she was wearing a slinky cocktail dress and not just her normal clothes.

Teddy, of all people, looked at her and said, "So, Granger, how was he?"

Ernie looked her up and down and said, "What's his inches?"

"Perfectly pleasant, and he's five foot nine, which I'm certain you know." Hermione Granger snapped back.

Shamus pouted at her, and said, "Aww, you're no fun. Have a lark, make something up!" Shamus' wide easy grin defied Hermione's anger with its affability.

Hermione stomped her foot, and said, "I swear, you all are the worst sort of voyeurs!"

Teddy said, "Aww, Granger, you know I only asked so that Pansy would talk with me again."

"Now you're doing Pansy's dirty work?! And here I thought you were MY friend."

"I am, I mean - you wouldn't mind? not even a little lie?"

"I'm a Gryffindor."

"Parvati lied her whole way through divination and you know it." Randy piped up from the back of the pack.

"Excuse me, Please - I have work to do." Richie said, muscling his narrow form through the pack of boys. (Were those girlish locks peeking out behind them? Nasty little things, couldn't be bothered to ask Hermione themselves. Have to rely on brawny boys to not get pummeled to death.)

"Richie!" Hermione said, favoring him with a wide, welcoming smile.

"Erm, I've got a few notices here, that I need your approval on. Can you -" Richie said,

Hermione cut him off with a simple, "Of course." Without looking, she grabbed for the handle of her door, and opened her office door. Her first clue that something was wrong was Ritchie's jaw hanging open. Shamus was the first person in- followed quickly by Colin Creevey. Shit, were there going to be photos of this? Because it wasn't just flowers... it was that, and a chocolate fountain, and - oh, my god, was that a palomino pony?! In her office? Flashes were going off everywhere, and the pony stamped its foot uneasily.

Shamus smiled at her and said, "Why don't you hop aboard?"

Hermione looked at everyone, looked at shamus, looked down at her skirt (which was entirely too short to hop aboard anything, even sidesaddle), and said, "Alright, show's over. Everybody out." Shooing the recaltrant out of her doorway, she absently signed whatever Richie handed her, and said sharply to him, "You too, Richie."

Finally, Hermione sat in her chair, her door safely locked and warded. She sighed, let her head collapse in her hands, and let out a muffled sob of frustration. Then she picked up a parchment and began to write. It started with _Ferret_

[a/n: Hermione does not want her office to be turned into "Draco's Romantic Gift" Zone. It's distracting, and Hermione's really a much more private person than that.]


	22. Vivacious Witch

Draco Malfoy couldn't help but grin as he opened the letter he took off the Ministry barn owl. Hermione Granger was actually addressing him as Ferret. Well, she's daft if she didn't think there'd be consequences to that. Draco Malfoy was perfectly fine with overdoing it with invitations sent to her home rather than her office (he had only really done that the first time to force the issue. The second was habit, and it was wise not to be predictable when wooing someone, wasn't it?).

But calling him Ferret? Action needed to be taken, and soon.

Draco Malfoy arrived at Granger's floor (it was nearly hers, anyway, she actually held a decently high position) to whispers. Unfortunately, as he stepped off the lift, he saw Scarhead, whose eyes seemed to light up with something eldrich and unholy at the sight of Draco. "What the hell are you doing, Malfoy? I know you're up to something... you didn't- did you?"

Draco Malfoy got out his most insufferable smirk, and said cattily, "I never kiss and tell, Potter." He let the smirk trace over his features, pulling out a dimple, before saying, "But I will tell you that her nickname for me is Ferret." Draco Malfoy then put his hands on his hips and saucily rolled them.

"I don't believe you!" Harry Potter said angrily. Of course someone who actually didn't believe him would have simply laughed. Even Draco thought he himself looked ridiculous even implying that.

"Read it for yourself..." Draco Malfoy said, pressing Granger's letter into Potter's hand.

Without bothering to read it, Harry strode off looking for Hermione. Daft fool, Draco Malfoy thought. Quickly, Draco turned to take the longer route - at a dash. He slid to a halt just around the corner from Granger's office, before strolling in casually.

"Just what has you rumpusing like a herd of elephants, Malfoy?" Granger said.

"I got your love-note, Fuzzarella," Draco drawled.

"Fuzzarella!" Hermione said, her eyes flashing (she always looked so vivacious when properly wound up). "Draco, what did you say to Harry? Steam's pouring out of his ears, and he's glaring too!"

Draco Malfoy schooled himself into the very picture of innocence, knowing from long experience that it would cause anyone to conclude that he was obviously guilty. "I may have mentioned that you'd christened me with the pet name of Ferret."

Hermione's brown eyes flashed gold for a brief second, as she glared at Draco, "Draco..." she growled.

"I may have also implied that I got that nickname for ... sexual performance." Draco said the last in a low mutter.

"Out!" Hermione shrieked at him, and Draco started moving as quickly as he could make look casual (which was quite quickly). "Read the letter, Potter." Draco said, not bothering to even glance at him. He counted himself lucky to have made it out of that encounter without getting hexed.

[a/n: Yes, Harry's going to get a talking to about jumping to assumptions. Also about listening to Malfoy, about anything ever. He really ought to know better, right?

The paper's already printed a special mid-day edition about Draco's antics. Yes, it's new. Yes, people are filthy voyeuristic gossips.

No, actually, Draco didn't have a hand in more publicity. He was being perfectly honest about "just one picture".

Leave a review!]


	23. Winding me up

Harry Potter's ears burned with embarrassment as he read the perfectly ordinary Hermione letter to the Ferret. Who, of course, was addressed that way, because that was what they'd always called him since fourth year. "Harry, are you okay?" Hermione asked, and Harry's attention snapped to her again.

"Um, I think I'm better now." Harry stammered out, pretty reluctant to tell Hermione anything about what exactly Draco Malfoy had said to him. Taking a bit of a peek in her office, Harry said, "Blimey, that's a lot of flowers."

"SO Distracting!" Hermione said with her usual warm smile - and the bite of her ire on her face. "So he asked me out on a date - he doesn't need to make a big production about it!"

Harry was kind of belatedly realizing that everyone around was looking at them (well, everyone except for Luna, who was scribbling something on her writing tablet). "It's just the way he is, Hermione. Wouldn't have figured he'd be your type, truly." Harry buried his hands in his pockets, and looked down at the last, not really wanting to see Hermione's face if she really was in love with Draco.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione said, smiling. "I suppose it's possible I could love Draco Malfoy." Harry thought his heart had stopped, or something - certainly he had stopped breathing. "In an alternate universe!" Hermione finished with a hearty laugh. Harry just... didn't think that Hermione and Malfoy fit together. Harry smiled a crooked smile, and let out a low chuckle.

"So, are you going?" Harry asked Hermione.

Hermione looked coquettish (it was only cute because she wasn't like that), and said "Mmmaybe yes, maybe not."

Harry smiled, a little relieved. It couldn't be going all that well if Hermione wasn't jumping in two feet forward. Harry, though, couldn't help but wonder what was going on. Malfoy loved to wind me up, sure - but, dating Herimione is pushing that a good deal past "too far."

[a/n: yeah we're switching to Harry's viewpoint for a while.]


	24. Unexplained Oddities

Hermione reflected, staring into the mirror at herself, that it had been an exceptionally pleasant date. Draco Malfoy appeared to not only understand how to not talk with his mouth full (Ron), but could also pronounce her name properly (Viktor), and to top it all off, knew enough French to order in a restaurant. Hermione thought, from the sound of his accent, that he knew a rather lot more than that too.

There had only been a couple of unexplained oddities about the date:

First, Luna Lovegood had been in the background at the restaurant, scribbling notes on a piece of paper. And eating snails, of all things. Hermione had made a point to not listen to Luna's talk about strange magical creatures too often - but she had remembered that Luna hated eating anything other than beef, lamb, or chicken. Snails!

Second, Draco Malfoy hadn't managed even one insult. Oh, he had a wit, for sure, but it was used in service to rhetorical flourish, and not to wound. It was a decidedly odd experience.

Third, Hermione Granger had an itch in the back of her spine, for the entire date. If this had been the war... Hermione would have been convinced there were Snatchers about. Someone watching her, quietly, almost... invisibly. Hermione's eyes widened at the last... _Harry!_ She thought, her mind leaping like lightning, the way it always did at the end of a particularly satisfying puzzle. Anger followed, the hint of _I can take care of myself, you nit!_ Hermione took a deep breath, and let out a long sigh. It was nice, she thought, to have people so _concerned_ for you that they would be this _stupid_.

The thought, unsurprisingly, did not fill her with any warmth.

[a/n: Imagine if Draco had figured out about Harry? Leave a review, kids and ladies!]


	25. Something Slightly Ridiculous

"So you'll do it, Pan?" Draco Malfoy had asked, in that devilishly winsome way he had. And Pansy, blast her soul (or heart or whatever had made her...), had said yes.

So, here she was, approaching the Golden Boy and his Quiddich-playing girlfriend, with a plastic smile on her face and a prayer to whomever was listening, that just for once, they'd actually not blast her to smithereens for having the temerity to approach the Chosen One. "Excuse me," Pansy said with as much elan as she could possibly muster when talking to a boy (now man, lands he was tall!) she had threatened to throw to the Dark Lord.

They both turned toward her, and they both got these identical, slightly hostile but couldn't be bothered to be more than that looks on their faces. She would be strong, she would get this done. She had _promised_.

"Would you like to buy a ticket for the annual raffle?" Pansy Parkinson asked, quite naturally avoiding the subject that this was the first annual raffle.

"Oh, well, we don't generally..." Harry Potter stumbled out, probably too used to people asking for a moment of his time. It was one galleon, for Merlin's Sake! (Though, Pansy thought, I ought to _mention_ that _before_ judging him).

"What's it for?" Gin Weasley asked, with a sharp look in her eye. Gryffindors shouldn't be allowed to copy Snape's look-of-certain-demise. It shouldn't be allowed.

"Orphan children from the war." Pansy said smartly, "And if you win, you'll get a seat at the ex-clu-sive" (Pansy had practiced that drawling in front of the mirror) "restaurant _The Mystic's Touch_."

"Odd name for a restaurant," Potter managed to say, before Gin glared at him, cutting him off as if he was a dog.

"We'll take two." Gin said, her smile making her look far more magnanimous than Pansy ever remembered looking herself - and she had spent hours in front of a mirror trying to look genuine and graceful.

So far so good, Pansy thought, stalking off to try and find some losers for the raffle.

[a/n: I like pansy. Pansy tries hard, it doesn't always work. I think Millie's better at looking like a nice person. Do you have time to write a review?]


	26. How can you possibly be dating him?

Harry was waiting down at the bottom of the stairs at the Burrow. He could hear Ginny and Hermione gaggling upstairs. God, how he hated when womenfolk gaggled like geese. They squawked, and gossiped, and did all this unnatural stuff. And they took FOREVER to finish putting their clothes on.

Harry had been waiting ten minutes. Harry knew from past experience that he was likely to be waiting another thirty at least. And they were supposed to have left fifteen minutes ago. Harry Potter knew he wasn't the prompt type - he was the slapdash, slide into class just before the door closed type. Still, he wasn't the Skip Class Altogether type, and that seemed suspiciously like what was going on upstairs.

Harry heard Ginny squealing, and had to mentally pin his feet to the ground. He did NOT want to know what was being discussed up above. Gin was that sort of scandalous gossip hound who wouldn't stop asking questions... and this was really the First Time she had been able to score some alone time with Hermione Granger. So, of course, it was taking especially long for Gin to get ready for her date with Harry. At the Mystic's Touch - somehow they had managed to win the raffle.

"Hermione! Wait, you can't go! You _still_ haven't-!" Ginny exhuberantly shrieked.

"Ta!" Hermione shouted in glee, leaving out the upstairs floo.

Harry looked up, somewhat disappointed to see only Ginny descending. He'd have liked to see what Hermione was going to wear tonight.

Ginny muttered to herself, looking splendidly fit as she descended the stairs, "I'm going to get _numbers_ out of her sometime..."

Harry fought, and lost, the war to contain his blush. He really, really did not need to be thinking about Draco Malfoy's "numbers." Stammering slightly, he looked at his date, and said, "You l-look delicious."

"Planning on eating me tonight, are we?" Ginny said with a saucy grin.

"Ginny!" Percy shrieked from within the kitchen, followed shortly by "Mum! Mum!" as he tried to help his fainting mum.

Harry turned, as if to try and help Molly Weasley. Ginny just grabbed his arm, and tugged, whispering conspiratorily, "Come on! If we don't hurry, she'll wake before we're out!"

[a/n: Where's Hermione going? ... this was a totally unintended scene that I just started writing because it felt right.

Who here feels sorry for Harry?

Write me a review, plz?]


	27. The Mystic's Touch

Draco Malfoy smiled as Hermione Granger met him a minute beforetimes, at the Unity Statue in Diagon Alley (Apparently Potter had made enough of a stink that he'd managed to prevent everyone from simply calling it the Potter Statue. Lad had a head hard as rocks, and twice as stubborn. Still, Draco would have despised having a Scarhead Statue as a landmark. It would just be weird, even if he had done enough service to the Land that he deserved the marble.) He grandly extended his arm to her, and she laced her hand through. Draco appreciated her slightness, that steered well clear of fragility.

And, of course, the looks on passersby were worth the price of admission.

Draco Malfoy escorted Hermione to the _Mystic's Touch_ , smiling as he did so. "Ah, Mr. Malfoy!" The maitre 'd said with a smile, "Your table is right this way."

Completely comfortable in the heels and white tie environment, Draco strolled over to the booth where his friends waited. He stole a quick glance at them - Pansy and Daphne were laughing, apparently about something completely devilish that they had managed to pull on Hortensia, who really hadn't the wit to dally with them and their schemes. Blaise, on the other hand, looked grim. Draco Malfoy had known him for long enough to know what that meant. Blaise wasn't here remotely willingly, and that always spelled trouble. Bless his dear heart, but Blaise lived to meddle in his friends' lives, and he had been quite vocal about how stupid he thought Draco's current scheme was. This was a Blaise hell bent on "I told you so."

And Draco hated I told you so.

About the only good thing Draco could say was that Blaise would generally stick around to help pick up the pieces. Theo was the opposite. He'd tell you repeatedly, over and over, how idiotic you were being, but when everything fell apart, he would be conveniently not there.

Lack of Theo at this engagement didn't mean anything special, though. Draco hadn't invited him, so he was unlikely to have spontaneously decided to emerge from the Muggle World. Of all of them, he was the one most antisocial, prone to bouts of "don't talk to me" that had driven an eleven year old Draco crazy.

Hermione, with a smile on her face, turned to Draco Malfoy and said pleasantly through gritted teeth, "You didn't tell me that your friends were going to be here."

Draco Malfoy smiled his sterling smile, cockily responding, "You didn't ask."

[a/n: I like reviews, will you write me one?

Up Next: Potter's arrival.]


	28. Why can't we be friends?

Pansy smiled at Granger, that little coquettish smile that she liked to give to people she didn't remotely like. Daphne simply leaned forward, her eyes predatory at the slightly nervous (but, deliciously, trying to hide it - and utterly failing) Gryffindor girl. Blaise simply leaned back and laughed, saying, "Sit down, you. Quit acting like we're the enemy."

Pansy smiled meanly, adding on, "School's out, you know?" She paused for a second, looking thoughtful, "Unless you're such a swot that you didn't notice?"

The comment surprised a snort of amusement out of Daphne, who responded, "Half the booth's free, unless that's too small for your ego."

Blaise purred, "With Malfoy there too, it's quite a snug fit."

With a bit of a huff, Hermione Granger sat down, and Draco Malfoy followed. "Have you ordered yet?" Draco asked smoothly.

Blaise said, "No." He eyed Hermione up and down, lasciviously. "When you bring a dish like her, I'm glad I waited."

Draco looked at Blaise coldly, saying, "Blaise, stop trying to pick up my date. It's gauche and plebeian." Hermione giggled at what he had said - Hells Bells, he hadn't been aware the wench knew _how_ to giggle!

Draco said to Pansy, "Draw the blinds, I don't want strays coming over to look for scraps."

Daphne said, crossly, "I'll have you know I'm no scrap!"

Draco responded, "Of course you aren't, my dear, I was talking about Blaise."

Pansy heard the door open, on the other side of the restaurant, as she deliberately didn't look over at it. Pinning her ears, she held her breath as Blaise started asking Hermione Granger what fascinating things she'd done since graduation. _That_ was perfectly boring. Pansy hated boring.

However, she heard the scrape of the curtain beside them being pulled shut, and smiled suddenly. "Hermione, I've been meaning to apologize to you..."

Hermione Granger, wisely, looked at Pansy like a deer in the headlights, blinking big brown, trusting eyes.

"I was an absolute bitch at school to you, and it was completely uncalled for!" Pansy said, smiling conspiratorally, "Would you believe I was the least bit jealous?"

"I'd sooner believe that your father threatened you into being a bitch." Hermione said, knocking back her water as if it was a shot of liquor.

Daphne giggled, and said, "No, they bred that into us. If you weren't quick enough, or mean enough, that's the belt for you!" Her voice had dropped on the last bit, and giving every clue that she was referencing Someone In Particular.

Pansy sighed, rolled her eyes, and said, "Nobody actually got the belt. That was years ago, back in my grandmum's day." Pansy straightened, looking Hermione Granger straight in the eyes, "I propose we start over, as if nothing stupid like Houses or anything got in the way. Blank Slate."

Hermione eyed her, sighed, and said, "I suppose that might work..." It sounded like her mind was already putting together ideas, and discarding them all at once.

Smiling warmly, Pansy held out her hand to be shook, and said, "Hi! I'm Pansy Parkinson. Will you be my friend?"

[a/n: Blaise was originally going to spend more time flirting with Granger. He can't resist baiting the bear.

Draco's friends ate the chapter, but I do assure you, Harry has Entered the Building.]


	29. Hermione Granger Smiles Back

"Provided you know what a friend is," Hermione said, her grin fierce and challenging, "Of course!"

Pansy looked coquettishly at Hermione, as Daphne got a more concerned look on her face, as if Hermione was sliding into a snakepit, newly opened for the year (the snakes still drowsy, but very venomous). "Friends tell each other _everything_."

Hermione just looked at Pansy, her face open like a glass mirror, and Pansy continued, with a far more predatory grin, "So _dish_."

"You first," Hermione said, giggling at the openly furious look on Pansy's face.

"Hmph" Pansy mock huffed, saying boldly and sarcastically, "Ask on, swotty Gryffindor."

Draco Malfoy shifted a bit in his chair, somehow conveying an air of vague hostility without saying a word. **

"Were you really in love with Draco back then?" Hermione asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Yes, of course. I was thirteen. What girl at age thirteen doesn't want to marry the handsome, moneyed prince?" Pansy said - then cast a sidealong glance at Granger, "except you, of course. Miss I'm Better than You"

Draco Malfoy sighed, saying, "Tell her the rest of it, she's asking nicely."

Pansy's smile got wider, as she responded, "I was out of love within three days. Draco here was an absolute prat back then, and didn't know a gift horse when it bit him on the rear end."

Draco sighed, louder, saying, "That was a stinging hex, not a lovebite." Hermione fought down a gigglefit.

"Now it's your turn!" Pansy shrieked in that high pitched, satisfied way that every on god's green earth loathes.

**This is nowhere near "fight level" hostility, which is why it's tricky.

[a/n: and switching perspectives. Leave a review, if you want this to update any time soon]


	30. Tell all

Ginny Weasley stared blankly at the menu. She ought to have at least prepared for the possibility that there would be Slytherins here - Pansy Parkinson had been handing out raffle tickets after all. However, she hadn't, and she was currently listening with all her might to the conversation, and skipping the menu entirely. Harry was doing the same thing, of course, if in a far more "contained explosion" manner.

With an excited clap, Pansy Parkinson purred, "You're going to settle an argument for us, Granger." She paused, for a moment, and then asked a little abashedly, "May I call you Hermione?"

"Yes, of course." Hermione responded, with enough of a smile in her voice to make it seem genuine. Ginny remembered that Hermione wasn't the type to make friends easily, and thus was more likely to accept genuine friendly advances, even from Slytherins (who of course always had something up their sleeve).

"Is Harry Potter gay?" Pansy asked, suppressed mirth nearly quivering in her voice.

Before Hermione could say a word, Draco Malfoy spoke up with a drawl, " _I've_ **always** said that he's gay. Haven't you-" Ginny's eyes were watching Harry, who was getting steadily more upset.

"We know what you think, Draco. You've told us repeatedly." Pansy cut him off impatiently. "So, Granger? erm, Hermione?" Pansy demanded.

"I... don't think so." Hermione stammered.

Briskly, Blaise cut in, before either Pansy or Draco could say a thing, "There you have it, Harry Potter's best friend has last say. Argument settled."

"I've never seen him touch the Weaselette in anything other than a friendly manner." Draco drawled.

Pansy said with a dismissive handwave that went clear out of the booth*, "Maybe he's shy?"

Daphne let out a giggle, "The Chosen One? Shy? I'm not sure being a Gryffindor and being shy precisely fit." Draco let out a chuckle of concurrence.

Pansy said, "You've seen them in private, Hermione. Has Harry ever acted, you know, romantic with Ginevra Weasley?"

Something clicked, inside Ginny's head, at that. Like a chinese puzzle box sliding together, suddenly everything fit. _He knows._ Ginny nearly dropped her fork.

"Um, now that you mention it... I don't - not often, not really. Maybe... not at all?" Hermione Granger said, and Ginny watched as Harry Potter closed his eyes, breathing in and out slowly, carefully, letting the rage (that left red imprints from his knife and fork embedded in his hands) run out.

*Ginny is sitting facing the Slytherin booth. Harry's back is to Draco's. Hence she can occasionally see gestures.

[a/n: What? you thought this was going to be pleasant? Draco is scheming, folks. Leave a review!]


	31. With Sparkles On

Somehow, and Hermione wasn't quite sure how, the tension seemed to drain out of the conversation. In fact, it leaped and hopped from one direction to another, pointed sometimes, often ribald with amusement, and, all in all, it was a joy to watch it play out. Hermione didn't chime in often, and Draco's dry wit only seemed to flare up occasionally (and, Hermione was relieved to note, it didn't seem quite so fearsome when everyone at the table was determined to give it back in spades). Hermione, of course, was half blind and a quarter deaf to the subtle nuances that passed between the friends. How could she not be? They had shared memories, shared spaces that they dwelled in. It was by their grace that she sat there, included and yet not. It was fun to watch friends getting along, in that slithery Slytherin fashion.

Still, all too soon, it was time for Hermione to leave. "I really need to get home, my begonias need to be watered before it turns dusk." she said sadly.

Daphne, the picture of Pureblood proprietry, said with a smile, "Get the house elf to do it in the morning. Just after dawn's the best time."

Hermione stiffened, and the entire table dissolved into laughter. Blaise took the opportunity to whisper into Hermione's ear (to Draco's glare, which Hermione didn't see), "She hasn't got a house elf, you realize?"

Hermione brought her hand down on the table, slamming it down, her shoulders shaking. The whole table seemed to pause, and then Hermione looked up. To the girls dismay, she was laughing so hard she was crying, "Oh, you guys got me good!" She gasped through her tears. "Now, I really do need to be going."

"Take care" Draco Malfoy said.

"Aren't you going to walk her to the door?" Pansy asked waspishly.

"Did I ever do that with you?"

"Well, no." Pansy said.

"Well, there you have it." Draco said, glancing at Hermione's back as she swayed through the door. He paused, turning still, and then, face expressionless, turned back towards Pansy, "Why in the world do you have Lovegood in your restaurant?"

"Oh, Draco, you don't turn Lovegood away. Her fans would have me in irons if they ever heard!" Pansy started, and began to spin the tale of how a very hapless Luna Lovegood had written about a broody vampire with sparkles that the tweens had fallen in love with.

"So a bit like Severus Snape." Draco Malfoy said thoughtfully, "Except with sparkles."

The entire table dissolved into laughter, and all thoughts of what Luna was writing floated free of their moorings in Draco's mind.

[a/n: yup, wrapping this up. Up next? More cards!

One reviewer said that the Slytherins weren't nice. I did want to ask - what were you _expecting_?]


	32. Cards!

Nott wasn't terribly happy to see Granger and Malfoy on his doorstep. He'd been expecting them of course, but he still didn't like it. The Weasel, however? That was the last straw.

"What have I told you about this place?" Nott hissed at Malfoy.

"It's got great burgers and beer?" Malfoy shot back, his eyes trying for innocent and nearly managing it.

"Not. To. Bring. Wizards. Here." Nott said, punctuating each word with an assault on Malfoy's person. A poke, a slap, a fist. an elbow, and a knee that was headed toward the groin before Malfoy skillfully blocked it.

"Oi! Girlfriend! Rescue!" Malfoy called out.

Hermione looked over curiously, and then eyed him skeptically, "Theo, dear, what did the prat do _now_?"

The impression was uncannily similar to Narcissa Malfoy, and both of the Slytherins paled. Theo recovered first, "He brought Percy Willoughby to my doorstep! When he knows very well why that's a logical impossibility!"

Percy, meanwhile, hearing his name, had stopped looking at the papers that he'd brought from work, and looked at Theodore Nott with an air of slight confusion, "Why, what's the logical impossibility?"

Hermione and Malfoy said, nearly at once, "He just doesn't think you can keep your trap shut."

"Why?" Percy looked baffled, "Oh, forgive me, you haven't seen me since Hogwarts, have you? My conduct towards my younger brothers was strict, yes - but that was all part of the game we were playing. I wasn't nearly as strict with anyone else, as Granger can back up."

"That's - you really didn't get us in trouble for sneaking out after dark!" Hermione sounded like she'd just realized this, and at that realization, Draco Malfoy muffled a snicker.

"It's not worth my job, this little escapade of yours." Percy Weasley stated, with the churlish uncaringness about feelings that Gryffindors were known to exhibit - except, in his case, it was more a studied ignorance that proclaimed "Feelings Don't Exist."

"So, what's the game?" Percy asked awkwardly.

"All of them, in due time," Malfoy said, "But why don't we go upstairs first?"

Perhaps surprisingly, they all seemed to have a good time with the cardgame, allowing them to focus on it rather than tiresome banter. Hermione howled when she picked up a fifth of the table's winnings, and Malfoy gloated when he captured a sixth of what everyone else had.

By the time they had to leave (it was pushing 3), even Percy and Nott were occasionally laughing at each other's jokes.

"We will be doing this again." Malfoy announced pompously.

"Not on your life!" Nott snapped back.

"No, I think on yours." Hermione said, "Since we'd be imposing and all."

As they spun out the floo, all they heard were slightly drunken curses.

[a/n: sorry this one's so late. leave a review?]


	33. Never Could

Potter never could keep his nose out of things that weren't his business, so it was with a smirk that Draco Malfoy greeted His Royal Blindness showing up right as Draco Malfoy was asking Hermione Granger out on a date.

And, being Draco Malfoy, he decided to one up himself - surely not because Potter was there. Well, just a little, then.

"Hermione Granger, will you accompany me to my villa in Italy for the weekend? It's a wonderful place for a getaway." Draco Malfoy asked gallantly.

"Oh, that sounds grand!" Hermione said, and then looked at Harry. Moments later, Hermione had her arms wrapped around Draco's and was staring up into his eyes. "You've got plenty of room, why don't we make it a double date? I'm sure Ginny's never been to Italy!"

Draco Malfoy wanted to beam - Hermione was playing _right_ into his plans. "Why not invite all your friends?" Draco drawled, managing to sound grand rather than spiteful.

"And yours? Will Theo come?" Hermione said, and Draco wanted to smirk at the narrowed look Potter was giving him.

"Unfortunately, he's allergic to sunlight." Draco Malfoy drawled - and Potter, ever ready to pick up on even stupid bait, eyed him like he couldn't tell a joke from a door.

Hermione laughed lightly. "Owl me the details - and the portkeys." Draco Malfoy drew close enough to Hermione to whisper in her ear, "Make sure you tell everyone to bring bathing suits."

Harry Potter, of course, was certain that Draco'd just been implying something a lot more prurient than bathing, in that muttered conversation he couldn't hear.

As Potter stalked off, Draco Malfoy had to wonder if he'd actually show up.

[a/n: Leave a review!]


	34. Ready for Travel

It was Friday, and they'd all decided to meet in the Ministry before flooing to the Transportation Centre. Well, that was the theory, at any rate. Draco had simply stowed his one suitcase under the desk (It was nearly bursting with expansion spells, Draco _hated_ getting places and discovering he hadn't the _right_ thing to wear. And it was Italy, at this time of year, rain was more likely than not*). Hermione was exactly on time, with her sensible two pieces of luggage (that locked one on top of the other).

Draco Malfoy got up from his desk to inspect the contraption, Hermione Granger happily prattling at him about the joys of Muggle living. Draco just wanted to figure out how it worked, not have an entire blasted sermon. So, exercising enormous patience, he complacently ignored his 'girlfriend.'

Which made it all the more awkward when Luna Lovegood suddenly spoke from right behind Draco, "Nice buns, sweetcheeks." She said smartly. Draco straightened (He hadn't liked the idea of being openly ogled when he'd been at Hogwarts, and at least there people had had the common decency to not mention that they were doing it.)

Luna, not to be outdone or thwarted, ran her hand over Draco's bottom, saying, "Oh, don't trouble yourself for me, keep on learning how locks work." Draco sent her a stung glare, bristling - only to see Luna's standard vapid smile, as if she wasn't insulting him.

Then again, this was Luna Lovegood, queen of misplacing the obvious and going hunting after invisible beasts.

"What's she doing here?" Draco Malfoy demanded.

"I invited her," Longbottom's booming voice said from behind. He'd grown into his weight, making him look more stocky than fat. It still wasn't a look Draco Malfoy envied.

"Oh, so you're to blame," Draco drawled.

"Did someone say my name?" Harry Potter said, stumbling in carrying half a dozen different bags, suitcases, and valises.

"Harry!" Hermione said, gleefully, turning that bright as sun smile on him. As Harry's face lit up simultaneously, it seemed like they were the only people there.

So, of course, Draco Malfoy spoke up, "Your name's Trouble not Blame, get it straight."

Neville said dryly, "Then you'll take the blame?"

"Only if it's not Potions," Draco Malfoy said, and Hermione stifled a giggle.

Gin Weasley came in, looking around at everyone, "What'd I miss? Why's Hermione giggling?" Gin, of course, had the other half of her luggage, piled up on her back, her arms, and even her waist.

Draco's office was not big enough for all this.

*Nobody ever tells you that the Mediterranean has a wet season! Water water every day!

[a/n: Draco would be even more crowded if Harry'd remembered his own luggage. Oh, well! Off to Italy!

Leave a review? This is a hard story to write, as it requires a really sunny mood. Luckily, reviews tend to cheer me up!]


	35. Italia

Draco said, sternly, "Okay, everyone touch this plank," There was a quick scramble to get to it, and Draco looked at his watch, as he put an arm around Hermione's shoulder.

"Portkey," he said, and the world spun black.

Everyone reappeared on the flat roof of a villa, and Draco immediately ran to the railing, inhaling the salty spray. Turning around, his face rapturous in delight, Draco grinned and said, "Well, how do you like it?"

"It's wonderful!" Hermione said, as usual completely unrestrained. "How long have you owned it?"

"Two weeks," Draco Malfoy said with a foxy grin.

"You just bought this?" Ginger said, "Quite a nice new acquisition,"

"I've never been to the ocean before," Harry managed, looking wistful, before quirking his lips up. "This'll be fun!"

Neville squinted, and said, "Is that Snodgrass?"

Draco leaped over to Neville, patting him on the far shoulder, "Why yes of course it is. And you can investigate it thoroughly once you Get Changed!" Draco spun to everyone else, saying, "On the Double!"

Hermione giggled, and Harry snorted, as Draco's impression of the affable Nobleman and Officer was hilariously out of tune with his normal mannerisms.

As everyone headed inside - quickly, as ordered, Hermione hung a little back, saying in a low voice to Draco, " ** _Tell_ ** me you didn't just buy this for, well, This!"

"Course not," Draco said, holding Hermione's gaze with a genuine smile, "I fell in love with it, and it'll make a fine place to let out. With house elves, I needn't fear rampaging houseguests."

Hermione grinned back, relieved. It was one thing to trust that Draco's plan was going to be intricate and interesting, when she figured it out. It was another for him to be buying titles to land to do it. That was a bit more than pocket change, even if he was a galleonic millionaire.

Draco was about to head to his own room, when he looked back at Luna Lovegood, "Why aren't you changing?" he asked, smoothing his voice to avoid the impression of trepidation that he was actually feeling.

Luna gave a silvery smile, and shrugged. At which point her sundress pooled at her ankles, and she stepped out of it, "Didn't need to change," she said, stuffing the dress in a beachbag. "Can you put my bags away for me? I could have sworn I saw something illusionary out on the waves. I want to take a look before the buffoons startle it."

Draco nodded, taking the bags himself, all the while thinking that calling Gryffindors buffoons was quite apt.

[a/n: Oh, Luna. It's boyscouts that are always prepared. Leave a review?]


	36. Draco in trunks

Draco had changed quickly, and had even had time to pull Theo out of his closet (where he'd been complaining about sunburn that he hadn't even gotten yet), before Granger and Potter arrived in the entryway, that led down to the beach.

Draco Malfoy caught the moment they each noticed the other was there. The stares they gave each other were positively scorching. Granger was dressed in a blue regulation swimsuit, a onepiece that was form fitting in ways that Draco hadn't considered before. Potter was just wearing pine green trunks, but that left his upper body completely exposed. Including the scars. Somehow, from the look on her face, Draco doubted that Hermione was seeing them at all.

Draco Malfoy jumped when Harry Potter said to him, "Malfoy, quit staring!" It was almost comical to watch Granger attempt to cover her breasts.

Draco Malfoy had his mouth half open before he swallowed back what he'd wanted to say. It was entirely counterproductive anyway. "To the beach!" he said, smiling grandly.

As they went down, Luna was already there, prancing around the wet sand. In the water, Theo was trying to show how deep he could go without getting his glasses wet.

Draco couldn't wait for more. He threw an uncautious arm around Hermione,and said, "Love you look right beautiful today."

"Thanks," she said abruptly, before smirking, "First one to the sea gets a kiss!"

[a/n: Leave a review.]


End file.
